From Nothing and Nowhere
by roselessrescue
Summary: Other account of eloquentfever. S03 AU. Kurt rats Sebastian out, leading to his expulsion and transfer to McKinley. Sebastian must hate Kurt more now, right? No. In fact, he saves Kurt from being ambushed by jocks and takes a beating for him. Kurt is surprised, but decides to explore Sebastian's character by visiting his house—only to realise he shouldn't have. Kurtbastian endgame.
1. From Fame and Splendour

_hello! this is Sam. this is just another account of mine. the other two that i have are **eloquentfever** (most known) and **RelapseAndEscape**. we're still the same person, so just to point this out. i don't know if you've read any of my other things or if the summary just attracted you but you've never read any of my works. i hope that this story appeals to you. the reason i'm hoping you know me is because i typically add or touch across mainly dark themes or sensitive topics. i do not know what i'm going to be touching in this one other than **complications of disease, swearing and dry humour (because it is through Sebastian's eyes whilst not being first person) and possibly character death.** in this fanfic, Sebastian has an incredibly rare disease and there is very little known about it so i'm just hoping that i do it proper justice. happily, i've done my research. _

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Chapter One

_From Fame and Splendor_

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Stepping out of the car and staring at the McKinley building made Sebastian feel like retching.

Boobs McGee taped him. Hummel got a hand of it, and now, everything had come to complete shit because Hummel handed it over to the principal. That was the shortcut version of the story. It actually involved a lot of crying from his Mother about how much he changed. She started spewing crap about how he wasn't the same boy, crying and sobbing out and then after she cried, she got angry.

She yelled at him and insulted him and then she calmed the fuck down. She went emotional again, and hugged him and blamed herself. It was a four-hour crying session and the Dalton principal was staying there, all awkward-looking and every now and then called out his secretary to get more tissues.

His Father was just about close to murdering him. He'd spent an hour on the phone last night with his Father yelling at him, and then the man just left the phone. Apparently, it was all arranged in a twelve-hour period. Sebastian was going to go to the worst school in about all of Lima. Fuck. Fuck it all.

And oh, to add insult to the huge fucking injury, his Mother had insisted on picking out his clothing that morning, so he looked completely _ick_.

Speaking of his Mother, she walked out of the car, smoothing over his hair and fixing his tie. Yes, he was wearing a fugly purple tie that was tucked underneath a sweater vest. He was wearing a buttoned shirt underneath said sweater vest. He looked ugly, and painted in shades of purple, grey, and black. He looked like a nerd.

"You look handsome," Lena had decided to say, and offering him his lunch box.

"I can't fucking breathe because of this stupid tie," Sebastian announced, his voice dripping with anger, but she'd gotten used to it. He took his lunch box, which just made him feel all the more pathetic.

Lena stared at him for some time. "Don't get hurt. This is important for you to remember this, sweetheart. You don't want another flare-up now, do you?"

Sebastian shuddered, shaking his head. "Fuck no," he called out. The last one he'd had had been two months ago and it happened because he'd accidentally driven his hip into the cupboard. He had been in immense pain for two weeks afterwards.

Lena nodded her head and gestured for him to lean down. He did so, and she gave him a quick peck on the check before she got into her car. "And don't hurt anyone!" she yelled. "If I hear about you bullying _anyone_ again, Sebastian Jean Smythe, I might just about feed you to your dogs."

Sebastian had snorted, as if his dogs would ever dare eat their loving owner…well, yeah, they would. Fatasses.

He left to go into the school, and immediately, he was disgusted by the fact that he was in such a low class environment. Just hearing the conversations that swept around made his IQ dramatically drop.

His clothing had earned a few glances from a few jocks, but they seemed to know his face because they turned away immediately when Sebastian had glared at them quite icily. He wasn't surprised that they knew who he was. There were very few people that didn't at this point in time.

He'd gotten his school schedule from his Mother this morning, whom had apparently set up everything so that when Sebastian walked in, he wouldn't have to complete any registry related crap.

His first class was an ugly ass English class. The teacher was boring and old, and smelled like printer paper. He talked about a book that Sebastian had read during the summer. As much as Sebastian wouldn't admit, not to himself, not to his Mother, not to anyone in the whole space-time continuum, he actually _liked_ books.

Well, he liked good books. Crappy books only brought out the pyromaniac in Sebastian.

Biology was even more boring, because the teacher was even older. He wondered if his next class, which was Math was going to be hosted by another boring, old man. When he went in, he laughed to himself. Nope, no boring old man. Even worse, a boring old women with saggy tits that looked like she had grandchildren.

At least the other boring, old men weren't actually old. Like real old. Aged cheese old. Nope, they were just old in terms of Sebastian's point of view – forty-something, maybe fifty. That woman was easily seventy-something. Halfway through the Math class, she had to take her antacids and rest. Shouldn't that bitch be _retired_? Then he heard that she was the principal's mother from what a few assholes dissing her, so that made a lot of sense.

Principals had power. They got to do whatever the fuck they wanted.

He'd gotten to his lunch period without gagging or hurting anything, so that was good progress already. He'd only insulted one freshman chick that was staring at him for some time and he made fun of her plastic tits. That was it. He might just be turning into a newer, much nicer leaf already.

In his classes, he'd always sat in the back and not noticed any of the Glee club members really, until he noticed Blaine. The teachers weren't like Dalton's enthusiastic whores that introduced every new student on campus. No, these teachers looked like they didn't even know or give a fuck about who attended the classes.

Blaine, that Asian guy, his Asian girlfriend, two blondes that were complete air-heads, and oh, he was sure there were more of them but he'd only really recognised them and Sebastian never stored crap in his memory unless he thought it was necessary. They were all in the same grade as him. Hummel, and Boobs McGee were not. That annoying screeching Jewish rodent wasn't in the classes either. He didn't remember the rest of them, but he was sure that one of them was black.

Sebastian Smythe was sure that he was about to puke in his next class. Pedophile Spanish teacher. Gag. Literally. And oh no, he started the class _enthusiastically_. He hated enthusiastic teachers. What the fuck were they so happy about? They got a bunch of hormonally inept teenagers to teach shit that wouldn't listen to them.

The guy next to Sebastian was listening to his iPod and the chick in front of him was trying to pretend she had boobs by sticking her chest out as hard as she could. He felt sorry for her, really. If he was a chick that was as fat as fuck and had no tits, he'd probably be dead right now.

Sebastian realised if anyone could listen to him speak, he'd have most of the class glaring at him and someone threatening to tear off his spleen. Sebastian never claimed to be perfect but he was pretty damn close, especially in comparison to some of these assholes.

At least Dalton was challenging.

Sebastian had gone off to lunch soon afterwards. He'd never had a canteen induce his gag reflex so much before. He pulled out his lunch box, feeling like an elementary student was a bad haircut. Scratch that. In these clothes and walking around with a lunch box, he was completely and utterly pathetic.

"Strange choice of clothing," he heard a voice say from behind him only to turn around to see Hummel standing there, looking rather smug face. He wanted to rip that gay face straight off.

Like he was wearing anything better – he wore so many colours that Sebastian was sure that he had a baby puke his rainbow sorbet on him.

Sebastian just shot him an icy glare. "My Mother picked it out, fine, Hummel?" he wasn't lying so…why the hell not mention it around?

Hummel seemed to frown. From what Sebastian knew, Gayface's Mother was dead, which he wouldn't make a quip about because it wouldn't be funny on any levels. "Well, she's adorable if she thinks she could dress up her demonspawn in a sweater vest and change his personality."

"I made her cry for four hours yesterday because I nearly accidentally blinded Blaine," Sebastian turned to open his lunch box and picked up the sandwich that was there. Ew. Healthy crap. He could see salad in his sandwich. He opened his sandwich, picking out the tomatoes, lettuce and cheese as he spoke. So, he was left with a sandwich with just roast beef. Good. "She deserves a break."

"Huh," Hummel sounded impressed. "So, you do have some semblance of a heart."

"Maybe. Sometimes." Sebastian shrugged, taking a mouthful of his roast beef sandwich, feeling like he was going to gag. He could still taste lettuce, tomato, and most of all, cheese. Sebastian fucking loathed cheese.

Worst of all, Hummel and Blaine decided to sit down with him. Hummel had some sort of salad, with bacon in it. He didn't know grass and bacon made a good combination. Blaine, however, was eating real food. As in a bag of potato chips.

Sebastian looked for more food in his lunch box. Other than that sandwich, his Mother had packed him a fat-free mozzarella stick (he hadn't eaten cheese in the last ten years, so he had no idea why she'd torture him like this) and oh, a Twirl bar. Thank fuck. He was not going to starve to death. He grabbed his Twirl and unwrapped it, and practically shoved it in his mouth immediately.

Hummel was staring at him as if he was radioactive. "What are you doing here, Sebastian?"

Sebastian couldn't help but laugh. Of course! Fucking perfect. "Well, someone ratted me out," he winked at Kurt, which made him colour into a rubicund flush. Sebastian was debating whether to be pissed or good-natured (for him). Apparently, good-natured meant a blushing Hummel. "Obviously, I got expelled. Obviously, your crappy low class school is the only one that would take me."

He'd put his lunch box away, smirking at them both. Jewish rodent and her black friend wandered towards them, and Sebastian wanted to make a cheap comment about Jewish rodent's fucking reindeer sweater, but he didn't want to sound anywhere close to Hummel. Sebastian stood up, still smirking.

He would not be defended by the stupid low-class low-budget school. He left, as if he wasn't wearing shitty nerdy clothing and carrying around a lunchbox with a spaceship on it. If he pretended this wasn't happening, maybe it'll disappear and he'd be back in Dalton, telling a bunch of spineless cowards that they were useless without him.

Sebastian decided to go into the bathroom. The minute he looked at himself, he felt his gag reflex stimulate. Fuck. He looked completely and utterly disgusting. He looked nothing close to okay. He wanted to cry. Ew.

He took off the tie that was choking him, rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and threw away the remains of his lunch because the last thing he wanted was for his Mother to bitch about how Sebastian did not have a 'varied' diet. Whatever the hell that was.

He'd gone off to his last class of the day. He thought of attending Glee club and crashing everyone's party, but he just didn't want to face Hummel. The last class was art. Fuck. He honestly did not know how to draw. Not even a stick figure. It was like the minute his brain registered that he was going to draw, everything grew wobbly and ugly. The woman wanted him to work with watercolours, and by the time Sebastian was done, the whole table was covered in blue and yellow. The teacher, a Spanish woman, was bitching about the mess he'd left and about how his drawing did not remotely resemble a parrot.

Sebastian was sure that he was going to fail that class from right then. He'd not been able to draw in ever. Good thing that art was such a useless class. He'd gone off to his locker, putting in every book except for a Math book and his Chemistry book. He had homework and contrary to most people's belief, he actually did give a shit about his studies.

He turned around, making sure not to smack into something. He opened his phone, texting his Mother that he'd be home soon and that he was done. His Mother was pretty bloody paranoid. If he didn't text her when he was done, she'd assume he was swallowed by the mediocrity of the system or that he was kidnapped or dead.

Sebastian shoved his phone in his pocket, expecting a message from her soon. Just as expected, in a mere few seconds, his phone was buzzing and he pulled it out only to see that his Mother was asking him to get milk and bread from the store just beside his house. Sebastian agreed, still walking towards the exit. Just before he stepped out of the school, he heard a chorus of boys laugh.

Sebastian had turned around to see that a bunch of jocks in those ugly out-of-date McKinley letterman jackets were laughing. One of them was holding Hummel by his hands, whom was actually starting to look incredibly pale. One of the jocks just went ahead and punched Hummel in the gut. Even Hummel looked shocked by this. Sebastian knew it was a stupid idea when he thought about it. Hell, he wouldn't get into anyone's business around here, because his name could only protect him so far.

He had the muscle mass of a rodent, and if he got hurt, then well…he shook his head, trying to forget about _that_. He kept his hand tightly held around the strap of his rucksack, and picked up the big ole Math book. He'd always wanted to hit a big lug with one of them. The black-haired asshole that was hitting Hummel, yeah, he threw the book at him. Sebastian may be shitty at drawing and lack muscle, but he could aim pretty damn well.

The book hit the back of the jock's head and elected a yelp of pain.

Sebastian knew it was really stupid to get involved, mostly because these kind of guys wouldn't leave him alone despite his name. One of them turned around, laughing at Sebastian's keen attempt at helping Hummel. He was some ginger with weird facial hair. "Look, princess Hummel has a suitor. I thought Hummel was dating a hobbit."

"Really?" Sebastian spat out, raising an eyebrow. "I wouldn't touch Hummel if I was paid to do it. I suggest you do the same."

"Or what? _You're_ going to hit us?" a fat jock with a baseball cap commented. Sebastian however knew that if he tried to hit him, he'd probably break his hand in turn.

Sebastian knew he was no match for this guy, and surely not five of them, but his mission was not to avoid getting beat up. Otherwise, he would've just gotten home. The black-haired asshole let go of Gayface, and walked over to Sebastian before grabbing him by his collar.

"You're cute, aren't you?" he spat out.

"I'd like to think so," Sebastian would take the beating. He knew they were going to beat him up, but as long as they did him in instead of Hummel, he could take it. Hummel, however, looked like he was going to piss his pants if they touched him again. "Can we get this over with, guys? I don't want to be late for lunch."

Fuck. He was going to be late for lunch. His Mother was going to probably start manic cleaning the house or whatever to calm down and Sebastian would have to make an excuse. All he hoped was that there were not going to be any bruises. Hummel seemed to take a hint and leave. Obviously, not to call out other forces that could save him. Whatever. He didn't want help anyway.

After a miraculously short beating, Sebastian found himself heading off to his car. They didn't do him much damage. One of them shoved him into a locker, slamming him there a bunch of times. He could guess he'd flare up in his back, and maybe his chest. He shuddered. He'd never had one in either of those places. It was mostly his hips and his knees because he was clumsy as frick frack fuck.

However, there were no visible bruises. Good. He unbuttoned the first top of his shirt, looking down and seeing clear purple bruising before buttoning it up again. Whatever. As long as it wasn't on his face and he wouldn't have to explain it to his Mother, it was cool. He'd been able to pick up his Math book before he left.

Next stop: home. In the meantime, he could make up a stupid reason for being late to coming back home. He'd say that his friends from Dalton came to visit him because that would make his Mother less worried about Sebastian being a loner and spending his time with his dogs. Perfect. He was a genius. He picked up his phone to text his Mother about his cleverly crafted lie when he saw that he had a text message from an unknown number that he quickly deduced as Hummel's. Why? It said: _Thank you for getting beat up for me._

Sebastian snorted. If Hummel thought that he was going to respond to his text message, he had another thing coming. He'd still saved the number as 'Gayface' and turned to text his Mother. He, however, was sure that he was too late to stop her from manic cleaning the household because she was worried that he'd been abducted. He'd texted her, threw his phone in the backseat, and finally drove back home after a long day at a shitty school.

He tried to forget about the fact that he had to get up and do it all over again, minus the beating (hopefully). Right now, he had an emotionally unstable Mother to deal with.

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_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	2. From Orange and Black

_Warnings for **major depressive disorder (clinical depression) and suicidal thoughts. **Sebastian's particularly – and also warnings for sickness as per usual. As I said before, Sebastian has a very rare disease which will be discussed in this chapter. I may add in more sensitive material so please be careful. I can be fairly careless with the amount of themes/choice of themes I choose to discuss in fanfiction._

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Chapter Two

_From Orange and Black_

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_I was so worried sick_, she said. _I thought you were dead_, she said. _You didn't call or leave any messages_, even though he did text her and he was only late by fifteen minutes. She was just technologically inept and didn't want to admit it.

She hugged him about a million times when he came home and then told him to feed his stupid dogs.

Sebastian did feed his dogs when he came home, and then went back downstairs to see his Mother. Oh no, she had that face on – that 'Sebastian, I'm so worried about you and I want to talk to you about it' face. He fucking hated that face more than anything.

She gave him that face when she found out how much alcohol he was drinking a night during the weekends. She had known he drank by that time, but not that he went through a bottle of hard liquor a night when he was all alone.

Oh, and if she was worried about him, she'd had to get his Dad involved in it somehow. That was the worst part. With the realisation of his alcohol abuse, she refused to stay out beside eleven pm. When she figured out that Sebastian was having unprotected sex, she insisted on having him tested for STD's. She was constantly worried. His Father was constantly angry at him. He always drank too much, had too much sex, and was nearly failing every subject.

Sebastian didn't even remember the last time he wanted to talk to his Father on the phone, because it always ended up with a lot of yelling. It was all his fault, so he couldn't complain about it.

Wait, no, he did remember. When he was fourteen, his doctors had been sure that Sebastian had cancer. _So_ sure. When Sebastian heard the C word, he nearly wanted to puke. A few biopsies later, it only seemed to get worse. Eleven different doctors later, Sebastian was diagnosed with _fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva_ – which he rarely ever remembered how to spell or pronounce. The other name for it was Stone Man Syndrome, which Sebastian couldn't say without bursting into laughter, so he just got used to calling it FOP.

Sebastian could only think that that sounded like it was a lot better than cancer, before his doctor explained to him what the hell FOP was. Apparently, if he got hurt in a particular spot, his body coped with growing bone on top of it because it was a whore. At first, Sebastian didn't think this sounded _that_ bad, until he realised that every time he was going to accidentally fall or hurt himself, he was going to be in severe pain for about two weeks, not being able to sleep and eat, and just staying up and staring up at the wall as his body decided to grow said new bone. Fuck.

It was the worst pain in his life. He wouldn't deny it. He didn't know if it was because he could actually tolerate very little pain (a needle injection could send him running half the time).

Apparently, it explained why his feet were so fucked up and it was only characteristic to it. His Mother's anxiety over losing him had been heightened. She refused for him to do any sport (he'd not told her that he had lacrosse when he was in Dalton and wasn't planning onto) and was so hesitant about him doing choir. _So much dancing_, she said, _you might hurt yourself. _

However, Sebastian had prided himself into being pretty graceful. _He_ was in control of his body. His body was _not_ in control of him, and it certainly didn't tell him that he couldn't do shit like dance if he wanted to. So, he danced and he went to lacrosse. He only got hurt a few times…okay, all those times were due to his dancing and lacrosse but they didn't sound that bad at that time.

He knew people banged into surfaces and walls all the bloody time. He couldn't. He had to be so bloody hyperaware and made sure his body did not touch a surface. If he thought that a dance move was too complicated, he didn't even _bother_ trying it. The possibility of the two-week pain was not worth it at fucking all!

He remembered just before Dalton, he used to go to this ugly stupid school in Paris where one of the teachers purposely shoved him in the desk despite knowing about Sebastian's disease. Oh, Jean Smythe pulled that asshole in court and there was a lot of yelling and screaming and Jean always had the upper hand. Fuck. Yes.

He had put down the eggs and milk on the table.

"You didn't hurt yourself today, did you?" she suddenly asked, her eyes wide and she moved towards him.

Somehow, a stupid fear filled Sebastian, almost as if she was going to tear off his shirt and see the bruising. He had to fucking calm down. All she knew was what he was going to tell her. Yeah. Exactly. He just smiled warmly at her. "Nah, Mom," he insisted.

It was technically true. He didn't hurt himself. A bunch of bullies made him into mush however in a fifteen minute period.

She just placed her hand on his arm. "Do you want an apple? I just went down to the shops and I've gotten these organic green apples. They're quite nice."

Sebastian looked grossed out. "I'll pass," he shook his head. "I'm going to nap."

"What?" suddenly, she was more alert. He swore that he didn't say anything that was shocking, but she was treating every bloody statement he said was like the doctors was telling her he had cancer all over again. "You don't usually nap. Why are you tired? You haven't slept enough last night, have you?"

"I'm fine," and never again should he ever be late when coming home. "I'm just tired is all—long day. Shitty school. All that crap."

"Fine," she sighed. "Did you feed the dogs?"

Sebastian nodded his head. She finally let released him of her captive. He went upstairs, napping and getting up to do some homework. He was pretty damn alone. He nearly thought of answering Hummel's text, but he wouldn't. Not over his dead body.

He tried to learn how to draw a bit better, so he wouldn't fail art and his Father wouldn't think he was completely useless.

He gave up after he'd been drawing a parrot in different art styles for a while. He was starting to grow tired and annoyed. What fucking sixteen year old boy didn't know how to draw a parrot was beyond his knowledge—oh, with that being said, he could finally draw a proper beak to the thing.

He'd spent the night on it, and was able to draw the most mediocre version of one. The beak was a bit wobbly, the eyes were just circles, the feathers were zig-zags and it was on a branch. He got out of the room to search the house for watercolours. He knew his Mother had watercolour pens because his Mother was an artist… and he was her talentless, tart son that couldn't draw a bloody thing.

He loved how he could be the most narcissistic version of himself and at the same time, think of himself so poorly. It was just how he was. He'd found her watercolours after a bit of rummaging, and walked to his room.

He'd tried to be very careful when he was colouring because he didn't want to try and draw another shitty but acceptable looking parrot. It took him two hours to colour in what was a very simple drawing of a parrot, but he'd managed to do it.

Sebastian then turned to do his Math homework, which also took him a while. All of this stuff didn't come so easy to him because he didn't study at all when he'd been in Dalton, choosing to drink himself to death instead even on weekdays. He couldn't do that now. His Mother put several locks on the liquor cabinet, and he wasn't allowed to leave the house. If he did, his Mother would just have a nervous breakdown and feel hopeless about him.

He went to sleep at three am, after forcing himself to try and learn all this shit. He actually had nothing else to do. He left his stupid fucking laptop back into his Father's house, and he didn't want to ask to borrow his Mother's laptop. It wasn't bloody worth it. She'd be sitting beside him and checking every bloody thing he did. His phone could only entertain him for so long.

He wanted his Game of Thrones. He wanted to catch up on Boardwalk Empire. He was probably behind a season now or something like that in both of them.

He nearly didn't want to sleep when he did end up being in his bed because he knew he was probably going to wake up in a lot of fucking pain.

He woke up in a lot of pain that morning. He went to the bathroom and looked at his body – small lesions poking from his chest, and his shoulders. They will get huge later on and he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He was just going to hope it wouldn't be too bad.

He didn't know what muscles he was ossifying. His doctors explained it to him, if he hurt himself, it was really because bone was growing over muscle, keeping that muscle from doing its shit. So far, he'd been hitting his hips pretty hard with this crap, and he couldn't rotate them as easily as most people considering they'd been ossifying.

He could not rotate his hips in circles (not that he'd ever _need_ to) but this also meant that he could not bend at his hips as easily as most people could. He realised a while ago that he was going to fucking die a statute. When people told him that he was made out of stone and ice, they had no fucking idea how close to the truth of Sebastian Smythe they were.

He'd never told people that weren't his family—what was he going to say? He was at risk of turning into bone and stone? Like anyone gave a fuck about him. Not that he blamed anyone that didn't. He was an asshole and he knew that much.

After spending time in the bathroom, trying to forgo the pain, he hoped that Hummel was not going to get into trouble this time and he wouldn't have to come around and 'save' him or whatever.

His Mother picked out his clothes again today. Ick. More sweater vests, more ties, more shirts, and work trousers. Blue, grey and orange this time. Sebastian hated orange too.

He felt a hollowness in his soul, something that had been there a while. It was ignited by his current situation, not with the fact that he went to a shitty school, the fact that his parents were looking at him like he was spring from the devil himself, and the fact that he was so fucking _alone_.

He didn't know why he was so upset all the fucking time. He was just pathetic.

This day was just as boring as the first. He just got his art teacher to accept his drawing and he told her that he just sucked majorly at art but wanted to work at it and stuff that teachers loved to hear. He told her that he'd try today but he was going to be real slow because he couldn't draw for shit (he said it in a nicer way but that was the gist of it).

Today, they could pick what they wanted to draw. Sebastian was brainstorming, thinking about something easy to draw that even he couldn't mess up. He ended up flipping trying very hard to draw an apple tree. In an hour of class, he managed to draw the bulk of the tree. He didn't try to do leaves yet or apples yet. He'd suck at it. He'd never admit it to anyone but the bulk of his problems were probably his inability to learn for shit.

He tried to pay attention to the rest of his classes, but his teachers were so boring. Spanish was the worst. That enthusiastic guy again. He shuddered at the thought. And physical education—his Mother wrote him a note so he wouldn't have to do anything and he skipped to go to the library to try and do some of his English homework.

Sebastian wanted to laugh. He was actually doing his homework and studying and crap like that. That was what his life had come to. Just fucking great.

After some time, he actually just wanted to cry. He had no idea, but he was hit with this undeniable need to cry. Maybe it was the fact that he was starting to feel the pain and he was a wuss when it came to pain. He ended up walking anywhere where he couldn't be found. Good thing for him most people were in classes, so he could just about sit down beside a window and cry all by himself.

Then he heard the sound of laughing again and he wiped away his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. No. No. _No!_

Sebastian was able to wipe away his tears and quickly take a look at the mirror. He looked like shit. He turned to the fountain that was just beside him and washed his face, wiping it away with a tissue. Apparently, he acted fast enough because the jocks had been able to find him fairly quickly.

At least he didn't look like he was crying. He didn't know what he'd do to himself if he had to fork over his pride to these complete asses.

"I don't think you've been properly introduced to the dumpster dive," one of the jocks said, grabbing Sebastian by his rucksack. "Come on. I can't find Hummel and you were fun to play with last time."

"Fuck you," Sebastian spat out, shaking his head. "Leave me alone. Leave me the fuck alone."

"Okay, we'll just go look for Hummel." The ginger with weird facial hair turned away and shoved Sebastian back. He hit the wall, hitting the lesion he had on his shoulder. Shit. He'd never gotten hurt when he had lesions before. What did this mean? Fuck it. Hummel could handle it. Sebastian did not have to be his 'saviour' and end up killing himself in some way.

However, somehow, in some sick way, he was happy to think about how he was just going to properly kill himself if he had things go on like this. One day, his body was going to ossify so much that his lungs would crush at the weight of his bones.

That sounded fucking delicious at that moment. Maybe it was because he just finished crying or some shit like that. He didn't know. He was just feeling low. It wasn't _that_ bad—he was convinced that much. Today was just a shit day. Yesterday was a pretty okay day in comparison.

"No, _stop_," Sebastian suddenly called out, sounding completely and utterly stupid and too-deep-in-'love'. He didn't love Hummel. He just didn't want them to pummel him when they could've just shoved Sebastian around. Sides, Hummel was a breakable thing. Sebastian was less breakable. Maybe. Something like that. "Fine. Dumpster dive me or whatever."

The ginger knew he would've gotten his way somehow. Sebastian knew that look anywhere. He was being carried towards the dumpsters, and Sebastian just then realised what a dumpster dive was. An _actual_ dumpster dive. Fuck. No. No. No. He didn't have any other clothes. He wanted to scream. Fuck.

Sebastian was shoved down the huge ass dumpster. He was taller than the height of that thing, so his legs poked out and the rest of him just hit surfaces. He smelled horrible and the more he struggled, the more he hit places. Shit. Shit. Shit. This couldn't happen tomorrow. No way. Hummel was on his own.

He found it funny how he was constantly dancing between wanting to take the beating for Hummel and with wanting them to fuck Hummel in the ass for all he cared. Sebastian would rather they asked them to blow him. He was in an incredibly amount of pain because of the hit, and whilst he was 'cushioned' by a shit load of shit that smelled gross. He was icky-smelling and he didn't know what to do.

He managed to stop wallowing in self-pity enough to leave the dumpster. He honestly smelled like shit. He smelled like chocolate milk, and three month old beef and other things that he didn't want to think about. All he wanted to do was puke. He was never going to take a dumpster dive for anyone. Not even his Mother. Never again. Nope. Nada.

How the hell was he going to explain this to his Mother?

"Sebastian?" he heard a voice from behind him and turned around to see Hummel standing there, looking incredibly shocked. Sebastian realised that he must have finished off gym period and it was lunch time. Had to be. Goody two shoes Hummel would not be skipping classes now, right?

Sebastian was angry, at them, but he'd shove it towards Hummel. "Fuck you. Fuck you entirely."

Sebastian turned around to trudge back to school but then Hummel caught his attention. "Do you have any clothes you could wear? I suggest that if you're going to play the role of my knight in shining sweater vests, then I suggest that you remember to get clothes next time."

Sebastian snorted. It was the most civil he'd ever be to Hummel and he knew that much.

Hummel's face softened. "I have some clothes if you want."

"Just fucking great," Sebastian spat out. "Fine. Give me whatever you have. Hopefully, it doesn't rate more than eight on the ugly and ridiculous scale else I might just go home and slit my wrists until I bleed out and die."

Hummel didn't say much. He just took him to his locker and offered Sebastian some of his clothes. It was black. Sebastian liked black, so that was progress. Black shirt, black pants. Wait. This was new. He looked over at it for some time.

"You bought this for me," Sebastian suddenly realised, considering that Hummel did not wear pants that were this long unless he wanted to trip. He had to hand it in for Hummel. "You thought I was going to 'defend' your 'honour' again?"

"If we're going to keep up with the cheesy knight in armour and princess Hummel thing again," Hummel sounded bored. "Then yes, I realised if _you_ do something stupid once, you're likely to do it again."

Sebastian nodded his head, and was just about to say 'thank you' before Hummel walked away. Fuck it. Sebastian suddenly felt incredibly angry. He didn't need to say thank you. Hummel was the reason he got beat up. Fuck it all.

Hummel seemed to stop in his tracks. Sebastian was not going to thank him. He could just forget it.

"Why are you doing this?" Hummel turned back to look at him. Blue eyes filled with curiosity. "You hate me and yet you are so bent on keeping me from being hurt."

"I hate seeing pretty princesses get fucked. Sides, like you could handle any of the crap they pull on you—probably wither away like a fairy," Sebastian tried to keep his voice as unchanging as possible.

"I've been handling the crap they pull on me for years," Hummel announced, raising an eyebrow. "If you decide to be civil and tell me why you're actually doing this, I _might_ even listen."

"Funny you didn't break into a million pieces," Sebastian stated, only watching Hummel's eyes darken. He was trudging on some dangerous territory.

"I'm not weak," Hummel wanted to make sure of that. He sounded insulted. Good. He didn't want Hummel prying in his life. "I'm stronger than you are."

"If you say so, Hummel," Sebastian just smirked at him and saw how Hummel's face changed into red. He was furious. Perfect. Sebastian turned to leave now to go change into the clothes that Hummel had given him.

Hummel made another statement just as Sebastian was leaving. "Don't try to 'save' me again. I don't want you around me. I don't want you to touch me and I certainly hope you don't think that you doing this for me will yield an advantage for me. If you think that this is going to get me to forgive you or to be on your side when you decide to join the New Directions—"

"As if I'd join your disgusting gay show choir," Sebastian spat back. He knew he was gay himself, but he couldn't help himself from saying it. "I'm doing this out of the goodness of my heart, Hummel."

"Hard to believe you have a heart," Hummel retorted.

Sebastian didn't say anything to that. He was used to worse, but it just stung. The whole thing stung. He was having a shit day. He went into the bathroom and changed. His sweater vest and crap like that was put into a pile and when he came to his locker, he saw that Hummel did put a carrier bag for them, one made out of paper. He hated orange and sweater vests anyway. It was all his Mother's fault. Really.

He heard the bell ring. He grabbed his lunch box, emptying it out in one of the dumpsters and then grabbed his History book before heading off to class. He wasn't near the brick of crying. Nope. He was just fine.

He didn't pay attention in that class. He was trying not to cry. After half the class, the urge just got stronger because people around him were acting like the world wasn't falling apart. He felt like the world was falling apart. He had to ask to be excused, and went to the bathroom to cry like the baby he was. At least when he did, the urge went away. He splashed his face with water, and came back with the red-headed teach asking him what took him so long.

After saying nothing for some time, he just dropped it. Another half hour of this class and then he could go home.

When he was done with that gross class, he'd taken all his books home and the carrier bag that Hummel had given him. This time he was able to leave the school without any distractions. He convinced himself he was not helping Hummel ever again—but that was before he looked through to see if Hummel was safe in the clutches of his show choir room. He was.

Fuck him. He was obsessed with Hummel—and he didn't know why. Not really. He was just weird and depressed. That was it. That explained everything.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	3. From Threats and Proposals

Chapter Three

_From Threats and Proposals_

* * *

His Mother was yapping on and on again about how he shouldn't have decided to wear his own clothes. She told him he looked like he was going to a funeral.

"I wish," Sebastian snorted. "It's less depressing that that stupid fucking school."

He couldn't tell her what actually happened. No. That was stupid, and she'd probably kill those kids that were just playing around with him. He was fine. He had to be. He fucking had to be fine.

He was in pain. A lot of it. He just could not stop thinking about how in pain he was. If he went upstairs and curled up in bed, his Mother would suspect something. If she found out he had another one of those flare-ups, she wouldn't let him leave the house, his bed, or do anything.

He was fine, just overdramatic. Yeah. There was nothing painful about his muscles being ossified. Nope.

Fuck.

This was what he always did. He knew he was a wimp. He knew it didn't really hurt _that_ bad, but he had such a low tolerance to pain that having a bit of a cold made him feel like he was about to die. He didn't eat anything when he came home just because he felt like his Mother may find it suspicious that he ate all of her potato salad with bacon and sandwich crap just two hours ago and came back home to demolish a shit load of food.

She overanalysed everything, so in turn, he had to overanalyse everything just to make sure she didn't figure it out.

He went upstairs soon after he came home which was yes, to do homework. He called his Father and told him to get him his laptop back. The man told him he'd get his assistant to send it to him as early as possible.

He got his homework out and started to plow through it. Homework just made him feel so much fucking worse because not only did he spend hours on every one of them, but then in the morning, he'd find kids doing homework in the morning in ten minutes. He couldn't do that. He was stupid.

He came home at around three, and it was only nine when he finished all of his homework. He got done with the art first, and then he plowed through the History crap he had to do. He made some notes for all of his classes, and reviewed the ones he had from yesterday.

When he realised that he had to catch up on months of work since he came into the middle of the semester, he started to cry again because he was stupid and pathetic and he had to cry over every stupid little thing.

He went to bed and just cried himself to sleep. Fuck it. He couldn't do this. He couldn't learn properly. He had to do things so slowly because he was an idiot that drank his way through his classes for two years and he didn't know of this shit that was so easy to some people. He did not know what a mole was. He didn't know where England was. He didn't know how to draw anything. He was screwed.

He woke up in the morning to see that his Mother had his clothes on the table with a note that told him to please wear them. He ripped that note out, throwing it into the bin and saw that he was pretty damn early for school.

His head hurt him from all the crying he did yesterday. He hated himself and most of all, it wasn't like he was in that much pain either.

He had enough time that morning to open up his lunch box just before he left for school and look at what his Mother had packed him. An egg salad sandwich, an apple and for his sweet tooth, she even left a pack of gummy bears.

Sebastian ate all of it. Even the apple. He was just so bloody hungry especially because he did not eat at all the day before. With the egg salad, the apple and the gummy bears in him, he felt satisfied. He was sipping on the apple juice she also kept for him.

Sebastian didn't want to open the fridge and get something out of that because he never ate breakfast and if he did eat breakfast, he didn't know how to explain it. His Mother was a hawk, she once noticed him picking off one singular blueberry from a container and fed him blueberries on top of everything because it was just so shocking that Sebastian ate a _fruit_.

He grabbed his lunch box to head off with him. He felt silly, walking around with an empty lunch box but he felt an incredibly need to keep up with this charade.

He was still in pain when he'd came to school. He really was making a big deal out of it, but he didn't know how to cope with pain. At all and this was something he'd use to excuse how weak he was. He went to his first class on time. Chemistry. He had to listen to a teacher talk about stuff he didn't know. He just marked the chapter and tried very hard to understand. He didn't know how to balance equations and he was pretty sure that Dalton did it every since he'd been there but he just didn't pay attention.

English was okay. He was on top with that, so he followed with them fairly easily. It made him feel a little better. He skipped PE again because of his FOP, thank fuck. He was glad his Mother did that for him. If he had to go through PE feeling this shitty, he didn't know what he'd do with himself. He spent his time in the library again, not disturbed by anyone this time and he got on top of his Chemistry. Or tried to. He knew what a mole was, finally, and he knew how an equation looked like (Shut up.) He'd been able to learn how to balance equations and was able to finish his homework. It was a pretty productive hour.

He'd asked his English and his Chem teacher about the stuff he had to know for the finals and they gave him a list. He wrote everything down and circled stuff around. He had a lot of studying to do come the holidays. Christmas was soon, and then came the January holiday they had after exams. He handed in his artwork and tried to draw something easier this time in art class when he realised he had to go with the theme "monochromatic". He had gotten a few sheets of hard paper and made different panels. He got to draw a pear, and shade it in different shades of green. He had made up six other panels for a blueberry, an apple, an orange, a raspberry, and a banana. That should be easy. He coloured in very precisely. He tried to show a gradient change, and was successful enough in it. His drawings were always tiny, and he didn't know why. He just always drew small objects. It was how he drew.

She told him to get a notebook so he could stick his stuff. He took his parrot drawing home too, and his apple tree. She told him to decorate his sketchbook pages and paint them before he stuck the little drawings he made.

He did Spanish with Schuester (the only one whose name he bothered remembering considering he was mentioned so much because of the choir room shit). He went to Math and was able to follow through with that too. He had more Math homework. Great.

He didn't do much in lunch, just hid from anyone that could hit him and spent the day sitting by the staircase and doing homework. That goofy enthusiastic Spanish teach was subbing in for his History teacher and he just gave him an activity sheet on stuff they had to know for the exams.

Sebastian didn't know anything, so he just panicked and stared blankly at the page for ten minutes before he formed some sort of idea about what he should be doing. He was practically shaking when he thought about it. He got through the first three questions of the five sheet activity sheet before he had to hand it in. They would be working on it later on in the week as apparently, Schuester was subbing for a while.

Just as Sebastian was about to go home, Schuester grabbed Sebastian by his arm.

"Hey," he smiled at Sebastian as if he was his first-born son. Who the hell was this creep? Schuester realised he wasn't getting a response out of Sebastian so he just coughed awkwardly before starting to speak. "How are you finding it in McKinley?"

"Why the hell do you care?" Sebastian didn't want to be civil with butt chin guy.

"I know you're probably scared, having to face this new environment," fuck. No. This asshole wanted to _psychoanalyse_ him. Sebastian was suddenly feeling very angry. "I just want to know that my door is always open and Glee club might still let join you in if you want in."

"Firstly, I'm not _scared_. Secondly, like your crappy Glee club is going to let me in. The second I walk into that choir room is the second that Lopez is going to rip me a new one," Sebastian kept his gaze steady towards Schuester. He felt good about this, sounding strong. Made him feel like he wasn't crumbling on the inside. "Thank you and leave me alone."

Schuester wasn't let him go, placing his hand on his shoulder. Was it just him or was this guy as touchy as fuck? Sebastian looked up and he was giving him one of those 'I'm a better person than you because I'm nice and shit' smiles. Well, that was how Sebastian read them.

"Come to the choir room today," Schuester insisted. "I'll talk to the Glee club. I'll tell them that it was all my idea. You're just worrying me. It's been a few days and you've been pretty alone."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. He'd only been here for three days. What the hell was this guy expecting? Did Hummel put him up to this?

"Come walk with me. I'm going to the choir room just now," the man had said, still smiling at Sebastian. Sebastian did not like this guy. He was pretty creepy and he had no bloody idea why he was so happy all the damn time either.

Just as they were walking, Schuester found it appropriate to talk to him. Yeah. _No_.

"I've heard that you've been trying to help Kurt out with the bullying," Schuester said all of a sudden, his smile widening. "That's very nice of you to do. Kurt's always had trouble with bullies and it's been worrying to say the least. He ended up transferring to Dalton for a while because of it. He was well-missed."

"I don't want to talk about Hummel," Sebastian grumbled, shaking his head. "I don't care about him. I don't care about anyone."

He had to establish his grounds with the Spanish teach. Maybe he'd hate him so much he'd end up throwing him out of his class one day. He hoped that would be the case and he wouldn't feel the need for Sebastian to join his super special show choir where they'd sing songs until everything was just fine and dandy. All that thought about talking about his feelings made Sebastian feel like he'd rather be beat up as an end to the day.

Sebastian pulled out his phone to text his Mother and tell him he was going to show choir. A teacher persuaded him and crap like that. His Mother texted him back, telling him to take care of himself and that she expected him to be home before four else she was going to go into her manic cleaning state.

He walked into the choir room and oh, there was a lot of commotion the second his presence was in. There was a lot of yelling. He saw Hummel was just staring at him.

Sebastian felt stupid, with his foes, standing there in work trousers, an argyle sweater vest, a tie and a shirt. Today's combination was mostly red and green. He felt icky and stupid in this.

"Guys, I know you don't like Sebastian," Schuester put his hands up.

"He shouldn't be here," Boobs McGee chimed out. "He's a little whore that doesn't know how to stop playing games when someone gets hurt."

Sebastian snorted. "Lopez, I play games _so_ that people get hurt," he insisted, rolling his eyes.

"I just don't think that this is a good idea," oh, of course, Blaine had to be so angelic and not too mean to him, even after he nearly tried to blind him. However, he saw the fire in Blaine's eyes. He was not happy. Blaine was still as hot as ever though and Sebastian couldn't stop staring.

"I'm out," Puckerman stood up to leave, only for Schuester to sigh.

"Sit down, Puck," Schuester called out. Sebastian was more so surprised that he actually called him Puck. Fun stuff. "I know you don't like Sebastian," he picked off from where he left off. "But you all want to go to Nationals and he's exceptionally talented. We know that much. We can't deny it. I'm not asking you to like him. I'm asking you to accept that he could be a good member of the team which brings us to today's lesson."

Schuester turned around to write '_Acceptance'_ on the board, and Sebastian realised his gag reflex was stimulated. He'd managed to quiet everyone down. Jewish rodent Berry was just staring at him with that 'don't even try anything stupid' expression of hers.

"Acceptance," Schuester called out, as if Sebastian had no eyes and could not read at all. "This week's assignment is to try and accept Sebastian as a member of the team and talk about your own issues with being accepted."

Sebastian honestly just wanted to bolt. He nearly wanted to pull out his phone and keep a conversation with his emotionally unstable Mother instead. He couldn't wait until this period of Hell was over and he could go back and crawl in his bed. He was aching and sore and didn't want to put up with anyone's bullshit at the moment.

There was a lot of chatter afterwards and Sebastian did not listen to any of it. He had learn how to block out people saying shitty things about him. Hummel had been silent for a long time and looked like he was in thought.

After Glee was done with, Sebastian went to go drive home, texting his Mother and telling him that he was done. Just as he was at his car finalising his text, Hummel decided to pop up, this time with the ever so gorgeous Blaine Anderson following him.

"Sebastian," Hummel greeted him, nodding his head.

Sebastian smiled at him darkly. "Hummel," he nodded his head. "What the hell do you want?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"How lovely of you to greet me ever so kindly," Hummel said with a weak smile, but didn't really look like he was interested in Sebastian's shit. He just sighed deeply. "Mr Schuester is right about us having to accept you. I am willing to erase everything away and start a new chapter. What would you say to that?"

Blaine nodded his head.

"Fuck the both of you," Sebastian said, stepping into his car. "Get out of my way, Hummel or I'll run you over."

The threat was meaningless, and Hummel knew this much.

"You are the most insufferable human being I have ever had the displeasure of meeting," Hummel called out, and Blaine seemed to trudge behind the demon that was Hummel whom was leaving along with him. "I'll give you twenty-four hours, Smythe! Either shape up, or be brought down!"

Like he was afraid of Hummel!

He just drove back home after Hummel's proposition. He didn't need any friends. He didn't need anyone to accept him. He didn't need anything. He just wanted things because he was a greedy little bitch. He came back home, feeling rather angry and erratic, only to find that his Mother was standing there and told him that they were going out to dinner together tonight.

"Don't feel like it," Sebastian suddenly said. "Loads of homework."

His load was lighter this day than most days, but she still followed him upstairs. As if she'd believe he'd invest his time in homework, but that was what he'd been pathetically doing for the past few days.

She grabbed his hand. "It's the weekend," she sighed deeply. "Are you still angry about me taking away your drinking privileges?"

She was trying and failing to find a reason behind his weirdness. He just shook his head. "I couldn't care less about drinking." He surprised himself because he was actually pretty honest about that statement. "I just don't want to go out. Is that so bad? I have to catch up on my work."

She stayed with him because she didn't believe that he was going to study. He snorted and he began on his work. He always started with art, because it was actually quite difficult for him. She sat beside him and he felt like shrinking away.

After trying so hard to draw the apple he had to draw, he kept on messing up because his Mother, professional artist, was staring at him and he felt so inadequate. He just threw his homework at the edge of the bed and started to cry.

Great. Avoided suspicion completely.

Lena wrapped his arms around Sebastian, pulling him close to her. He pushed her away immediately. She hugged him? She felt his lesions. He managed to stop it before she figured it out and then his game would be over. He just saw her stare at him, confused and hurt. No. No. No.

"What is wrong with you these days?" she asked.

Sebastian shrugged. "I'm fine," he insisted, his voice dark and he hoped it sounded confident. He felt spineless and weak. Cowardly. He said this as he was bloody crying. He was sure he wasn't convincing in the least bit. "I'm fine." He repeated, his voice laced with anger.

"Sebastian, I hardly believe that," she moved towards him again and this time, he jumped.

"Don't touch me, you stupid cow." He was angry, and volatile and the only way he knew how to deal with it was to push people away and hurt them until they gave up with him.

She looked shocked by this and then she looked angry and left him around. "Fine. Stay miserable."

He did. He stayed in his room and went to wear some sort of thick sweater so that in case she did touch him again, there was no risk of her feeling his stupid lesions which were huge now and fairly painful. In two or three days, he was going to have a low grade fever. He knew it. He always got a fever during a flare-up. It just always happened. He blamed his immune system for flipping the shit out.

She left him all alone for a while and he cried even more because his Mother hated him and everyone he knew hated him because he was the stupid cow.

After crying for so long, he actually started to feel real shitty. He was a jerk to his Mom. There was no doubt about it. He'd been feeling so low he was actually dancing with the idea of offing himself. He wouldn't tell his Mother that though. She'd just stick him in the loony bin or worse—decide to talk to him about it. He'd finished crying at around ten pm and spent it shivering and shaking, but at least he wasn't crying. Thank fuck for that. Thank Jesus and the Lord.

With that, Lena had come back to see him. She didn't look hurt anymore and she was carrying a tray of food for him. She sat beside him, and pushed it to him.

"You've not been eating dinner the past few days," she noted, about to place a hand on his shoulder but then she retreated. He blamed himself. His Mother didn't want to touch him because he was a disgusting loser.

Sebastian just nodded his head, grabbing the fork and picking at his dinner. He loved curry, but after the crying and the fact that his nose was still congested and his head was pounding, he didn't feel it as much. He'd eaten half of it before shoving the tray back towards his Mother. He cuddled up into a ball by himself, staring down at the ground.

She looked surprised for a few moments before she moved closer to hug him. "You know, my Mother suffered from depression," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Good thing it wasn't near his lesion. The dogs were barking and he wanted to burn them. He just wanted to sleep right now. He felt tired and weak. "She overate when she was upset and she slept a fair amount. She felt like her life was meaningless."

"I'm not depressed," he spat out, his voice cold and his eyes bloodshot. His voice was dripping with pain.

Lena looked at him in that way that made him want to cry. It was that look you just gave someone that was either delusional, that sad look that was like 'yeah, I wish you could see it from my point of view'. He didn't want to have that look from his Mom. His Mother was pitying him.

"Can you sleep?" she asked, and he nodded his head.

"I can sleep just fine," he said, moving to shut his lamp. "And I'd love to bloody sleep right now."

She nodded her head, took his tray and left. He moved in his bed. His dogs joined him, and he fell asleep. He was fine. He was just fucking fine.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	4. From Dinners and Bruises

Chapter Four

_From Dinners and Bruises_

* * *

The next morning, he thought about Hummel's offer. He'd given him twenty-four hours. Be civil. Crap like that.

He'd been sitting with the dog. He was afraid if his Mother saw him crying again, she was going to be convinced he needed pills. She'd already been talking to his Father about getting him a shrink. He needed to act and act fast. He was fine and not depressed and did not need a shrink. He was not in fucking denial either! He'd started throwing things around that morning.

This involved a few apples, and Lena had called him unstable. He took the dogs out for a walk and was sitting by a bench right now. It was getting cold and he hated the fucking cold.

It was an okay day today. He didn't cry or anything. See? He was not depressed. Just fine.

That finally texted Hummel and said that he was going to be civil. He snorted immediately afterwards. If Hummel could see him now - snorting, smirking, all pleased with himself, he'd probably string his intestines up a violin.

Hummel responded in about point five seconds, which just told Sebastian that he really didn't have anything to do with his life. _Great. If you're so inclined on being civil—I am going to go to Breadstix with Finn tonight. My parents usually accompany us but they need a date night. Besides, we went to Breadstix yesterday. I would enjoy your company but of course…hopefully. Be there by seven._

Sebastian rolled his eyes. Whatever. He'd said yes and gone back home with his dogs. His Mother had gone out to the shops and he had the place to himself for now. He went to get some of his homework done. He'd picked up his art and tried to focus on it. He tried to push away the thoughts of how inadequate he was because he couldn't draw for shit and his Mother had paintings that were being sold for billions.

When he was done with his artwork, he started to feel incredibly low and weak again. He decided to get started on History notes just so that he'd be more likely to finish them later.

When he was halfway done, he kicked his notebook away and went to change to go out with Hummel.

Walking to his car, he felt vacant and like his existence was a heavy load on his body. He just wanted the bloody day to end. He was tired of fucking existing. There was nothing brilliant about his existence at the moment.

Just as he'd gotten into the car, he'd gotten a call from his Father. He shuddered. His Father hadn't called him since he'd gotten expelled. He didn't want to talk to him. He was worried that his Father would sound disappointed in him (What? No! He wouldn't. It wasn't like he was an evil Sasquatch.)

"Hey?" he called out as he answered the phone.

"Whatever you're doing to worry your Mother, stop it," his voice was strong and he sounded angry. "If Lena calls me one more time, panicking, I might just come there myself. What have you been doing? What have you been telling her? Keep it bloody together. Understand?"

"Fine." Sebastian was pissed off. His Dad didn't even know anything about him and he was telling him to 'stop' whatever it was he was doing? Yeah. Whatever. He rolled his eyes.

"I'll be there next week for Christmas holidays. From what I know, yours start soon as well. I'm hoping you to be presentable." Jean announced, his voice stern. His Dad could've been talking to a client for all Sebastian knew. It wasn't like his tone ever changed.

Sebastian snorted. "Nice to talk to you too, Dad."

"Stop being so cocky," Jean ended the call without as much as a goodbye. Sebastian did not know why it pissed him off so much because he did the exact same. He never said his goodbyes before he ended a phone call.

He ended up walking into Breadstix at a time just shy of seven. He was on bloody time and that surprised him.

Hummel seemed to be surprised as well. He was sitting there with Hudson, whom had been talking about if chocolate bunnies were really bunnies or some shit like that. He wondered how Hudson passed anything.

Hummel was looking at him for a few moments. "Sebastian?" he called out, raising an eyebrow. "I honestly…"

"Didn't think I'd show up," Sebastian smirked, but he felt offended. He said he was going to show. He was pissed off and hurt for stupid reasons these days. He sat down just beside Hummel whom was looking at him with an impressed expression.

"So, am I looking at the real Sebastian's taste or did your Mother pick this for you?" he asked.

Sebastian shrugged. "Mine," he looked down to remember what he was wearing – skinny jeans, and a thick maroon sweater. He was wearing thick boots as well. He was cold as fuck and didn't want anyone that touched him to know he had a bloody lesion.

"I think I preferred your Mother's taste," Hummel said after some time.

"Whatever," poor Hummel didn't know that when Sebastian was in this state, he was easily hurt and could just about cry about anything and everything. Shit. What if he cried in front of Hummel? He didn't think this through.

Hummel offered him the menu. Sebastian felt sick. He didn't like going out to eat. He didn't like eating with people. This just reminded him of his family trying to be a family. He was used to ordering in with boys that smoked too many cigs a day and drank too much for their own good – hell, he was one of them but he didn't leave the house to go and eat.

Fuck. He didn't think of this before. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"Want to know something, Hummel?" Sebastian asked, only for Gayface to raise an eyebrow. "I've been in Lima for about four or five years and I've never been to Breadstix. Not ever."

It was funny considering Breadstix was like McDonald's or Burger King. It was one of those things that everyone went to, no doubt about it. Or tried it. At least once or twice, so Sebastian's confession shocked Hummel and he could tell.

"Are you going to tell me why you bothered helping me with those jocks?" Hummel was not going to let that go, was he? Persistent fucker.

Sebastian shook his head. "Nah," he sighed before his phone rang. Fuck. His Mother. Did he remember to tell her that he'd gone off for dinner?

He'd not remembered. Probably not. He answered the phone casually. "Hey."

"Where are you?" she suddenly asked, her voice high. "Are you out drinking? If you're coming home drunk, Sebastian, I might just about hurt you. Sebastian Jean Smythe, you—"

"I'm fine. I'm just out with people," 'friends' sounded too much to use. Hummel and Hudson were not his _friends_. "For dinner so don't wait up for me tonight."

"Oh, thank God." She was expecting the worst but of course. "Okay. Don't stay up too late, darling. It's not good for you. It may ruin your sleeping schedule like last time I let you stay out late. And be careful. If you end up being hurt…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he shut the phone after he finished talking to her. He never said goodbyes. It was just something he did. He looked over at Hummel and Hudson, whom had been observing him as if he was some culture under a microscope. "_What_?" his voice was dripping with coldness.

"Parent?" Hudson asked, chuckling at his own joke.

"Yeah," Sebastian said after some time. "Mother. She'll probably be blowing up my phone in the next few hours. That's just how she is. She knows I won't answer after the first call but she doesn't stop trying. I swear it's like she has nothing to do all day but sit down and think about what in fuck's name I was doing."

"That's awesome though," Hudson tried to attempt conversation. Too cute. "That she cares about you and stuff. Sort of thought you came from a broken home."

"Nope," Sebastian shook his head, raising an eyebrow. "Why the fuck did you think I came from a broken home? To explain the fact that I'm an asshole?"

"Well, uh…"

Sebastian snorted. "You're alright, Hudson," he said. That was nice for him to think that he wasn't born an asshole.

Unfortunately for him, Sebastian was a case of 'monkey see, monkey do' and in this case, monkey saw his Father yell at his clients and call them good for nothing losers so Sebastian imitated. He was just a kid that didn't have a personality so he picked off whatever he saw from his Father.

"Thanks?" Hudson replied, not knowing what to say.

They ordered food. Hummel got some sort of salad and there was cheese in it. Sebastian was pretty sure that all Hummel survived on were salads—that was until he ordered a huge bloody slice of German cake that made Sebastian laugh. Hummel shot him a glare at that. Hudson ordered spaghetti and Sebastian ordered spaghetti too. Hudson was asking him questions and Hummel was just listening.

"What kind of school you went to? Before Dalton?"

"School in Paris," Sebastian had answered, taking a mouthful of spaghetti. "Crappy school. Had a friend that I used to skip school with and have sex with. That kind of stuff. Just barely passed and that was because my aunt was in the board of directors and my Father practically bribed them to pass me."

"He must be proud," Hummel muttered, referring to Sebastian's Father.

Sebastian just gave a toothy smile. "Whatever, Hummel."

"What about like…" Hudson was trying to search for something to keep the conversation going. It was sort of cute if Sebastian was into boys that were taller than him (note: he wasn't. Not at all), "…sports and stuff? Blaine said you played lacrosse but I heard you sort of skipped PE. Not sure why though but the teach lets you so you must have like some sort of medication condition or something."

Sebastian was shocked about that one. One because Hudson was so bloody attentive! He'd not thought to be questioned on by that from Hudson, but he was expecting it from Hummel. He just shrugged. "Nope, no medical condition. Just my Mom being scared that I'm going to hurt myself," he said, mocking his Mother in every single way possible as he said that. "She's the most paranoid human being on the face of the planet."

Sebastian finished the spaghetti thing along with a three refills of Coke. Hummel looked like he was just leafing through his salad but really dug into his cake. Made Sebastian laugh. "Hummel, you're fat."

"You are the most obnoxious human being on the face of the planet," Hummel sounded convinced of it.

"This time next week on Saturday, dude?" Hudson asked, shocking Sebastian. He thought that he made most people think that they shouldn't be anywhere near contact of him. Apparently, he had to try harder because Hudson seemed to enjoy his company.

Sebastian nodded his head. "I guess." He didn't know what was so pleasing about him being around. He knew he was going to ditch from now. He'd done his bid. He didn't want any more of Hummel or Hudson. What the hell were they trying to do anyway? Thinking they could be his friend or whatever?

What a bunch of fifth graders.

When he drove back home, he found his Mother standing there waiting for him and attacking him with hugs and questions about how he was. He said he was bloody fine and she shouldn't have called. He swore his Mother was becoming less and less impressed with his personality. She probably might stop giving a fuck about him sometime soon. He sort of hoped she would.

"I'm getting a job," she said that morning over breakfast. She'd bought Sebastian breakfast, and he was playing around with it. He was pretty sure putting bananas in his cereal should be a federal offence. "Stop playing with your cereal and eat it. Because I'm not giving you anything else. You have to get used to eating better because you eat like absolute shit."

"When did you decide to take control of me?" he said, his eyes dark.

Lena shook her head. "Since I realised that you aren't a virgin and drink heavily and have been for a few months without my supervision. I'm not happy. At all or impressed. I think you might be getting depressed because you're so used to drinking so much and don't know how to cope without it. Your Father agrees, which is why when he comes around, he's driving you to AA."

"What?" Sebastian's eyes widened. He found this unfair. His fucking mood had nothing to do with his lack of alcohol intake and besides, even if he was suffering from withdrawal—withdrawal for like this long? She was fucking joking. "You're batshit crazy! I can fucking cope without alcohol. What the hell do you want me to do?"

"Bite your tongue," she ordered.

"Fine," he said. He was pissed off and didn't even want to look at her. He didn't want bananas in his shitty bran flakes. He pushed it back towards her.

"Get out of bed. It's not good for you to stay in bed for so long."

He wanted to laugh. "If you want me to get out of bed, you should make me because you are sadly mistaken if you think I'm getting up for anyone."

"It's eight am. How long do you want to stay in that bed? It's not healthy for you."

Sebastian did laugh this time, and then his face had gone completely somber. "Get out of my room," he didn't feel like dealing with her or anyone else for that matter.

"Sebastian Jean Smythe," she called out, her voice filled with anger. "Stop this."

"_Get out of my room_," he repeated once more, his eyes flaring with anger. "Get out because if I get out of this room, you'll see a side of me you don't like."

"I have yet to see a side of you I like," Lena only said, her eyes filled with fury. "Get up, Sebastian. Now, not later."

Sebastian wanted to hurt his Mother. Yes, he knew it was mean or whatever but in that moment, he honestly just wanted to hurt his Mother. He got up, but he was trudging out of the house. He didn't want to be alone.

He had a Chemistry report he could start on and he was going to the library because he didn't want to ask his Mother for her laptop. He grabbed a notebook out of his rucksack and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you," he said. "Can't wait until I'm old enough to leave this stupid house. You'll never see me again."

Lena didn't look at all surprised. "Good luck with that because as far as I'm concerned, you still act like a child."

Sebastian went to the local library, and found himself sitting by a computer and getting started on his lab report. He didn't know how to write a lab report. He'd never had to. He'd asked his teach how they wanted the lab report, but he still didn't have a good idea how it was supposed to look like.

He wrote the skeleton of the thing and decided to branch on it. After spending an hour doing the most basic outline, he'd decided to add on to it. He spent his time in the library, and when it was around two pm, he was about to lose it because he'd gotten to the fucking conclusion but he…well, he couldn't write a conclusion.

He'd walked around the library a bunch of times, and then came back to write it. By four pm, he was done with the thing. He printed the paper, and headed off to go home. Halfway through, he realised he didn't want to see his Mother.

He didn't know what on Earth he was supposed to do though. He looked at the time. Five pm. His Mother had an appointment with the hair salon from what he knew to treat her dry hair or some shit like that. He went back home, and saw she wasn't there.

Feeling relieved, he picked up his rucksack, grabbed some spare money he had tucked away and just left. First, he went to buy his lunch or dinner or whatever it was people ate at around five pm. He got himself a bag of potato chips and a sandwich and sat down to eat by a bench.

Just as he was eating, he picked up his artwork to look over it. It was shitty but acceptable. He thought of very quickly lining it. He picked up a felt-tip pen and had gone over it as slowly as he could. It looked way better so he just kept on doing it. He was fairly cautious when doing this.

Most people didn't get why Sebastian was so cautious and precise when he was doing his artwork but he could fuck up something he spent hours on fairly easily. It was why he just gave up. If Sebastian wasn't studying like a madman, he wouldn't get anywhere and studying like a madman just didn't sound like his cup of tea.

Not until now.

Now, he didn't have anything better to do. He did his work, eating a potato chip ever so often and wiping his hand away with a tissue before he picked up another one of his pens.

When he'd been done lining his art, he turned to pick up his notebook to read over his notes and ate his sandwich. He'd gotten through all of his notes in quicker than thirty minutes. He'd been going over his notes so often he'd memorised them without even trying. He'd tried to do one of the Spanish activity sheets that Schuester gave him to help him ease into the language. He'd done about another few of them before it started to get dark.

He headed off to the Lima Bean and ordered himself a large latte and sat down to read more of the sheets. He decided to flip and do the questions that were in his Chem and history. He'd also done a bit of Math. He basically just spent the whole day studying. He felt good about it. He'd had everything done and printed. He'd finished the Spanish and art bit. He didn't have anything else, so he just calmed down after and decided to read ahead in his English as well.

He was drained by the time that he realised he should probably go home. He stuffed everything in his rucksack, and stepped out of the café.

He then heard the jeers.

"What are you going to do about it?" he recognised that voice, and his stomach did a backflip. He braced himself forward and walked over to the back of Lima and saw that Blaine was held back by two of those guys that were like twice his size. Hummel was being held down and about to be pummeled.

_Shit_.

Well, he just had to leave. He had no business being here. He had no conscious. He didn't have to do anything for any of them. He didn't know why it came to him just then – but that ginger, the one with facial hair, and the black-haired asshole that seemed to be with them. He suddenly remembered them. They were in Scandals one of those days, hurting some five-foot-one fat gay kid that was crying. The black-haired one beat him with a bottle.

The only reason he remembered that was because the black-haired one was holding a bottle right then. He was going to smash Hummel with it. Somehow, the realisation spun an emotional response. He just _had_ to stand in front of Hummel. He just had to because he was a stupid idiot.

The jock looked surprised for a few moments before he laughed. "Let go of Hummel." He told the blonde that was holding him down.

"But—"the blonde started, but a glare from the ginger made him let go of Hummel.

"Go away, Gayface." Sebastian commented, watching Hummel tentatively step back. First time he met Hummel, he just bolted off when he had the chance. Now, he wasn't. No. Hummel might be developing some sort of affection for him! Sebastian would not allow it!

"Go away, Gayface!" Sebastian repeated, only for Hummel to jolt slightly before scooting himself away from the scene. He still looked uncertain. No. Fuck. He could not let Hummel _like_ him.

Sebastian looked back at the ginger, whom was smirking. He nodded towards the blonde, whom grabbed Sebastian by his arms and shoved him backwards. The black-haired asshole threw the bottle away. Sebastian really needed a better nickname for him but he just couldn't find one yet.

"Can't smash him," the black-haired asshole said. "If I do, he'd tell his Daddy and we're all screwed."

Ha! Like his Father would believe him if Sebastian said a bunch of guys beat him up. His Father would somehow find a way to make it seem like it was Sebastian's fault—well, it was. He was being stupid like always. Blaine was wide-eyed.

"Anderson," the black-haired asshole called out. "Hurt him."

Blaine was shaking his head rather vigorously. Sebastian laughed. "Blaine, just fucking get it over with. I'm missing my show, and I just want to go back home." Lies. He wanted to go back home just as much as he wanted to be beat up by his crush.

"I…" Blaine sounded so tentative.

"Blaine! Fucking do it!" Sebastian snapped, his eyes were wide with anger. "Just do it."

Blaine's eyes were practically filling as he reached forward. Sebastian shut his eyes. This wasn't going to hurt, but the boys around him will make sure Blaine would beat him up until it did hurt. Until it hurt so bad that they were laughing and getting off the fact that he was in so much pain. _Whatever_. Sebastian was ready for whatever it was. He just hoped that Blaine wouldn't bruise his face.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	5. From Hockey and Lesions

Chapter Five

_ From Hockey and Lesions _

* * *

Because he ended up being beat up. He knew he wouldn't reach the house until incredibly late. Sebastian didn't mind getting home late. He minded how his Mother was going to flip the fuck out when she saw him. Not because of the bruising. He could cover that up. He could cover up his lesion too.

His bruising did show, so after the guys left him and Blaine alone, Blaine looked sick to the stomach.

"I am so, so sorry," Blaine sounded truly apologetic. "I…I swear, I just—"

"Bee," Sebastian cut him off. "I nearly blinded you. Who gave a fuck if you beat me up?"

Blaine was flushing. Sebastian normally didn't make comments that made people realise he probably had a shitty self-worth. He could cover this one up easily though. "I care if I beat you up. I mean…shit. Just…are you hurt?"

"Of course, I'm hurt. You beat me up." Sebastian told him.

"I'm so sorry," Blaine sounded out again, sounding like he owed Sebastian his life for the one good act he did since he knew him. Probably. "I'm so, so—"

"If you say sorry one more time, I'm breaking your nose." Sebastian said, trying to maintain his cool, collected character as he spoke. He smiled. "Jeez, Bee, it's fine. Calm down. It's not like I'm dying or anything."

Blaine smiled back at Sebastian. "Really missed that character of yours."

Sebastian smiled at Blaine and wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Blaine wasn't expecting it but he eased in and hugged Sebastian back. "See you in school, buddy," Sebastian announced before he turned around to leave.

He saw that Hummel was standing there, looking pale. "Don't worry, Hummel. I'm not stealing your boy toy."

"Why do you keep doing this?" he said, his voice soft and low. Blaine joined him soon after, frowning in concern. "Why do you keep trying to be save the Hummel in distress? You owe me nothing. You get beat up for me, and then you act like an asshole. I don't understand you at all, Sebastian."

"Good thing you don't have to then," Sebastian insisted, his eyes dark and powerful. He wanted nothing more than to get away from them now. He didn't want questions. He was fucking tired and he didn't want to deal with his Mom.

Hummel nodded his head. "At least let me walk you home."

Hummel didn't fail to notice how Sebastian seemed to be nervous at that comment. Sebastian shook his head. "Nah," he said, smiling at Hummel instead. He turned around to leave but noted that Hummel was looking quite surprised. Shit. He gave something away, didn't he? He just didn't know what.

Sebastian just turned around to leave. He hoped nothing had fallen from his rucksack when he'd been beat up. He knew the weight of it was hurting him when Blaine was beating him up but whatever. He was fine now. It shouldn't matter now, but somehow, it did. Shit like that always mattered somehow. Sebastian felt tears collect towards his eyes. He was sick of this.

He was so, so sick of this. Sick of hiding. Sick of lying. Sick of his Mother. Sick of Hummel. Sick of not telling Hummel. Sick of Blaine. Sick of having to lie around and sneak because he couldn't bear the thought of being weak. And he was crying about being weak, which was making him feel angry.

He'd managed to dry his face off before he went in the house. He'd forgotten his Father was to come home and crap like that so he was shocked when he saw that the man was standing there, holding a crying Lena in his hands.

Fuck. He made his Mother cry.

"You," Jean's voice was strong with hatred. "Stay there."

Sebastian didn't move from where he stood.

"_Where_ in fuck's name were you?" Jean's eyes were bulging with anger. He was not happy. Not at all. He just looked over at Sebastian's frame, not really knowing what he was looking for. "And _why_ the hell wouldn't you bloody pick up your phone?"

Sebastian had turned his phone off. He'd forgotten to turn it back on. His heart was racing. It was late at night. He was out of the house for fourteen hours, maybe a bit more. It was late. He just wanted to go upstairs and sleep. It was Saturday, but he had to wake up tomorrow because he had physio or whatever his Mother had wanted him to go to.

Jean stood up, and Lena was still crying, staring at Sebastian with big, tearful eyes. He made his Mother fucking cry. That was how bad of a person he was. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He felt tears fill his own eyes.

Jean grabbed him by his arm and shoved him backwards into the table. Sebastian blamed his impulsive behaviour on his Father, but of course. Jean grabbed Sebastian by his arm and shoved him straight into the table. He crashed straight into it, breaking down loads of crap on the way. Breakable glassy crap. There was blood spewing from his hands.

Fuck. No.

His Mother had dissolved down to him, grabbing his hands. "Where else did he hurt you?" she called out, placing her hand on his shoulder. So close to his lesion but not that close. Ha! Good. She was shaking her head, tears spilling. "This is my fault."

"You could've told him, you know?" Sebastian jeered. Jean actually had no idea that Sebastian's genetics were so fucked up and that his body was growing an extra skeleton on top of his own. And that Jean just accelerated the process of him dying. Great. Sebastian wondered what he probably wouldn't be able to move thanks to his Dad, oh and there was the beating that Blaine gave him.

In four days, he'd managed to do more damage than sixteen years' worth. If he went on this process, he'd probably be dead soon.

"There is nothing that you could tell me to make me regret doing that," Jean said, sounding adamant.

"Want to bet on it?" Sebastian asked, standing up and feeling a bit wobbly.

Lena stared at Sebastian's hands, a horrible sight. He was going to bruise so bad tomorrow. He couldn't wait to hate himself for being nice to Hummel and Blaine. Sebastian headed off upstairs and his Mother wasn't going to stop him. He ran his hands under some water, and bandaged them up real nice. He didn't bleed anywhere else. He didn't know what was going to hurt tomorrow.

He just headed off to sleep. His parents couldn't tell him that he couldn't sleep now, right?

He woke up that morning. His alarm didn't go off and his Mother didn't take him to his appointment. Good. When he woke up, he found his Mother offering him a cup of milky tea which he took a sip off immediately.

"I told your Father," Lena explained, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Jean was standing there awkwardly. He looked like he cared about what happened to Sebastian, a feeling that Sebastian had rarely seen expressed in his Father. He didn't even know the man gave a fuck about what happened to him.

Jean sat down, placing a hand on Sebastian's own. "I'm sorry." Fuck, Jean Smythe apologised. Shit had to have gone down last night.

Sebastian slowly but surely nodded his head.

"I showed him your x-rays yesterday and he reminded me to let you get new ones. I think we'll do that after your exams." She smiled. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No. He got new ones, she'd know that there were a lot more there than she remembered.

Sebastian nodded his head. "Fine," he murmured, sipping his tea.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," she said.

"It's fine," Sebastian explained, not meeting his Mother's eyes regardless of the fact he wasn't that pissed off at her. He just didn't want to look at her. He was feeling upset and tired. He drank a bit more of the tea before he just shook his head and offered it back to her.

"Coming back later," he said, taking his rucksack with him. He did most of his work but he still had a lot to learn for midterms and crap. He was feeling shaky about the whole thing. He had to learn what was four months' worth of work in a short span of time when he was stupid.

He shut the doorway to his room and almost immediately afterwards, he heard his Mother say, "I don't know what's wrong with him. He's just been like this for a while. There's something bothering him and it's eating him alive but I don't know what it is."

Sebastian felt defeated and tired but he just left anyway. He didn't know what to do with himself but whatever.

He went to go pick up with his studies. He was going to be examined. His art exam was four hours long and he had to learn how to draw something good in those four hours. The trouble was he couldn't draw for shit. His Chem exam was mostly of stuff he'd never heard of and his English involved books he'd never read. His History was a lot of shit he didn't even know where to start. He didn't know Spanish. Not really. He knew French, and spoke it fluently, but not fucking Spanish. And Biology…he just wanted to puke.

After an hour, the only thing he worked himself up for was a mental breakdown. He wanted to throw himself off the library. He honestly just wanted to kill himself. It was getting hard not to at that moment. He just wanted to hurt himself. Break his body. Break his bones.

He was in a shit load of pain. He wouldn't lie. He was going to shake from how much pain he was in. _Everything_ hurt. _Everything_. He had so many lesions. He had to wear his baggy pants just so he wouldn't have to look at him and his baggy hockey shirt from when he actually did do hockey.

He'd been rubbing his knee, and staring down at the ground. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. He hated this. He really bloody hated this.

After some time, he'd calmed down enough to crack open his book and study.

He wouldn't lie. That day was one of the worst he'd had in so fucking long. He hated everything about it. He hated himself. He hated that he couldn't be perfect. He hated it. He cracked on, trying to get some work done. He wouldn't lie. He was on some sort of adrenaline high and just wanted to stop studying but he couldn't. He didn't know what in fuck's name he got himself into.

He came back home fairly late that night, and just fell asleep.

Then the week came. The week was horrible. He wouldn't lie. It was one of the worst he'd had in a while. He refused to wear anything that his Mother pulled out for him in the morning, because it would be tight and irritating around his lesions. His Mother was yelling at him again and he actually just about called her a bitch. His Father was angry at him.

Sebastian didn't care. He didn't care at all. He wore huge sweaters and baggy pants and walked around, feeling cold and tired.

That day, he just walked up to Schuester before classes started. He was pathetically nearly in tears.

"Sebastian?" Schuester sounded real worried about him. "What's wrong?"

"Get your stupid Glee club away from me. Don't let them talk to me or else, I'll shoot myself," he didn't know if he actually meant it. Ever since he said it, he'd been flirting with the idea the minute he said it. He didn't know why, but life was just too much right now and he just felt like puking all the bloody time.

Schuester seemed shocked, but slowly nodded his head.

"Bye," Sebastian turned around hastily to leave, but he knew Schuester wouldn't give up. Maybe he really should shoot himself just so the old man would take a hint.

He wiped away the tears before they fell and trudged through to his classes. He actually figured his teachers' name this time. Pretty damn good improvement he'd say. The Math class that was taught by that grandma was pretty hard today. The grandma was apparently known as Mrs Turner. She didn't have to stop the lesson to fetch her antacids this time. The Biology that was taught by that boring douche was harder. Mr Nelson apparently. The Chem Sebastian could barely get his head around. Sebastian forgot the guy's name but he was going to hopefully remember it tomorrow. Today, his PE teach had an operation or whatever and there was this stern-looking blonde haired lady named Sue or whatever that was taking over his place and she wouldn't believe his excuse.

He wanted to slap her. She thought he was making it up as he went along. He wanted to hurt himself, so he did. They were doing hockey – one of his Mother's 'don't even think about it' sports and he'd fallen and gotten injured a couple of times. He changed from the spare hockey uniform he'd nicked off one of the assholes back into his baggy clothing. Sue cornered him straight afterwards and mockingly asked him if he'd disintegrated into ashes because he'd played the game.

"You're filth," Sebastian spat out to her. His eyes filled with anger. "You know that, don't you?" he was going to majorly get into trouble but he wanted to take his chances.

"Figgins' office," she said nearly automatically.

"Make me," Sebastian said. She grabbed him by his shoulder and shoved him forward. He guessed she could feel his lesions from how she was holding him but he bet she didn't give a rat's ass about them. Maybe she just thought he had a bad acne problem or something (not that he'd ever seen zits as big as his lesions).

Sue was going on about how Sebastian had disrespected her and he wondered if he could mention his FOP. He was scared to mention it just in case they'd talk to his Mother about it but then again, it wouldn't be his fault. He'd given the note to Beiste, and Sylvester made him fuck himself up on the hockey field.

Oh, and then Schuester had to self-insert himself into Sebastian's business! What the flying fuck was going on? He just walked in there, looking at Sue with dark eyes and just went all 'Sue. What the hell did you do now?' sort of thing just with less swearing.

"What is the meaning of this, Mr Smythe?" Figgins asked him, making Sebastian roll his eyes. What a sitcom he was in.

"I wasn't lying," Sebastian snorted. "I do have a genetic disease that covers my muscles and ligaments and tendons and whatever with bone when I get hurt."

Schuester seemed to look at Sebastian with shocked eyes.

"There's no such thing," Sue insisted. "In all of the years I've been on this Earth for, I've never heard of such a thing. It doesn't exist."

"Because you know everything," Sebastian spat out, his voice dripping with coldness.

"Calm down, Sue," Figgins called out, looking like he just didn't want to deal with her bullshit. "I'm just going to call his parents. They should shed light on this. Mr Smythe, do you know your Mother's phone number?"

Sebastian nodded his head and was quick to write it down for him. The man had called his Mother, and told her to come over. This was going to be shitty and stupid. He could feel it. He was bloody skipping English, which he actually liked, for this crap. Schuester put his hand on his shoulder to 'comfort' him and he wanted to punch him in the face.

This was all Schuester's fault. Sebastian didn't know how or why but it just was. They waited a while before his Mother walked in, looking completely disgruntled and panicky.

"What happened? What did you break?" Lena was quick to accuse Sebastian, but of course. "I'm sorry if he broke anything. I could call for it to be fixed. I just need to know what—"

"That little punk of yours disrespected me."

"She made me play ice hockey!"

Lena's eyes suddenly filled with fury. "Sebastian can't play ice hockey." She insisted, huffing. "Sebastian is sick. He gets hurt – he'll grow new bone over his body. I made him give a note to the PE teacher once. I don't understand why this is just now a problem."

"Coach Beiste is out for the week," Schuester insisted. "Sue was subbing for her. She didn't believe Sebastian when he told her."

"Now, that that's settled," Figgins looked tired. "Get out of my office, William. Sue, stay."

Lena nodded her head. "Come on, Sebastian, sweetie. I'll take you home," she said, her voice dripping with too much bloody sweetness, as she rubbed his shoulder. Fuck. Right where his lesion was at. She didn't look too happy about it.

Schuester followed his Mother and Sebastian out the door.

"If you need anything, I'd be glad to help," Schuester sucked up to his Mother. He wondered why the hell he did this all the time. Sebastian rolled his eyes. He shook his head. "What does Sebastian have if I can ask?"

His Mother had memorised it. He bet it was scaring her in her sleep or whatever. "Fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva," she explained, placing her hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "The other name is Stone Man Syndrome but Sebastian takes that one less seriously so he just calls it FOP."

"FOP," Schuester nodded his head. "Alright. Does it…how serious is it?"

Sebastian felt himself swallow the lump in his throat.

His Mother was going to fucking bawl her eyes out. He could feel it. She just looked up at Schuester, shaking her head. "Doctors say it's incredibly disabling."

"I'm _not_ disabled so," Sebastian shrugged. He didn't want to think about becoming fucking disabled. Fuck off. He was shuddering, thinking that he could just about be disabling himself by helping Hummel. What a joke. Really.

"He can't rotate his hips or bend his knees," she began, explaining the shit he couldn't do. "He can't put his arms over his shoulders because there are bones grown over those muscles that restrict his movement. Where did you get hurt?"

He didn't notice that she was talking to him until then. He didn't know where he got here. Not really. He just sort of ached everywhere. "I think my knees again," he explained, shrugging. "And my shoulders." If this kept on going on, he wouldn't be bloody able to shrug. For some reason, that made him want to cry. He always bloody shrugged. It was the way he expressed his 'I don't know' personality without looking like he gave a damn about anything.

"I'm going to make him rest," she was back to talking to Schuester. "And if tomorrow, if he's in too much pain, then I'm just going to have to either make him stay at home or I'll let him come home early if he has anything important."

Schuester nodded his head. "Take care of yourself, Sebastian."

"I did mean it," Sebastian suddenly sounded out. "Get your pesky Glee club out of my ass," he wanted to show Schuester that he honestly didn't want the Glee club on his tail. Even if he had to say it in front of his Mother.

She took him back home after getting him a latte. He'd gone back home and showered. It was the first time he'd showered in a while. He looked over at his lesions currently. He had so many. He wanted to cry. And they were just going to be more tomorrow because of the ice hockey.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He walked out of the bathroom, only to see his Mother standing there. "Mom," he whined.

Lena moved towards him, staring at the multiple lesions that were on his shoulder and on his back. They hurt like fuck. He wouldn't lie. He had a few on his hips, thankfully covered by his towel and a bunch of them on his knees. He also had a few at his forearms. He looked like shitty artwork. He had a few on his chest from the push Jean gave him a while back. How the hell was that possible?

It seemed that instead of waiting for them to heal, they were just piling onto his body. It took him at least two weeks for most of the pain to go away or before he got used to it. The thing could be there for a month or two for all he cared. He didn't like the thought of this at all.

"Sebastian," his Mother sounded aghast, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to bloody _murder_ Jean."

He was just about to say that Jean wasn't the reason for most of them, but he didn't want to plunge into that story.

"And there are going to be more tomorrow, aren't they?" she sounded heartbroken. "That's it. You're not leaving this house tomorrow. You need to rest. Your body's been under so much strain and it's just…"

Sebastian wondered how she'd react if she actually knew what was going on with him. Another reason not to tell her shit. She'd probably start shitting bricks if she figured what he'd been doing. Like she'd believe that he'd help anyone though.

"Are you in any pain?"

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah," he rubbed his neck.

"You don't normally act like this when you flare-up," she noted, shaking her head. "You always act like it's the end of the world when you do. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just actually finally grew a tolerance to the pain." Fuck it. He was in pain. He was in a lot of pain and oh, there was the fact that he spent most of his allowance on over-the-counter painkillers. He didn't say any of that though. He just stared at her for some time. "I want to sleep."

She nodded her head and left. He tried to fall asleep, but it just didn't happen. After a while, he'd given up and tried to focus on his studies. He managed to get through most of it before he had a panic attack and cried himself to sleep that night.

He woke up at six am stat, wandering over towards his laptop and emailing his teachers. None of them responded by four pm and he just was shaking and crying. Fuck. He didn't know what to do.

He went to go have a shower, and looked at himself. He was hideous. He was marred with these bloody lesions. They hurt like Hell. He had a bunch of them on his ass even from when he fell down. Sitting down had never been so fucking painful before.

He honestly just wanted to break down and cry. Could he do that without being called a complete wimp? Probably not.

He was just so angry and unhappy. He didn't even really know why or who at. He just was. He felt angry at himself for being so _stupid_! Fuck!

He wandered off to his room and then cracked on with his studies. That was all he could do. When his Mother walked in, he was a mess over the fact that he had to learn about shit about World War I or II or Z or something. He was pretty much shaking to his core at that point.

"Are you overworking yourself?" Lena placed her hand on his shoulder. "You should be resting."

"Shit no," he said. "I'm just cold." He was actually trembling like a little dog. What the fuck was wrong with him? He just pulled up the blanket close to him.

He changed the subject. "I have a bunch of lesions on my ass," Sebastian snorted, but really, it was painful. "Hurts like hell."

"What?" her voice was high. "Show me."

"Fuck no!" she was kidding, wasn't she? He rolled his eyes.

"Strangers can see it. Why can't I?"

Sebastian was glaring at her at that moment. He was actually pretty damn hurt by that statement. She realised what she said about a few seconds after she said it.

"Sebastian, I am so sorry." She placed her hand on her chest. "I—"

"Leave me alone," Sebastian insisted. "You're contaminating my air, Mother."

Lena didn't say anything to that. She just moved close to him and placed a kiss on his cheek, rubbing his shoulder. "Stop studying and rest up," she ordered. "Take a long nap and then come downstairs and have dinner with me and your Father, okay?"

He nodded his head, trying not to roll his eyes. He wanted to tell her to try and sleep when she was literally covered in these stupid lesions! He locked his door soon after she left, sitting on his bed. He hated everything. Bloody everything.

He grabbed his book, hoping that sitting by the window was going to make him concentrate better or whatever. Maybe he just needed some Vitamin D and sunlight or something stupid like that. He was close to crying. He wouldn't lie. Then his phone rang and he looked at his caller ID. Hummel. Just great. Just fucking great!

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	6. From Panic and Confessions

Chapter Six

_From Panic and Confessions_

* * *

"Yes? What the fuck do you want?" Sebastian didn't want anyone calling him. What was it? Five minutes after school ended? Pathetic.

"I didn't see you today," Hummel said, all soft-voiced and crap. Was soft-voiced a word? Probably not considering he was going to fail every single subject he had to take. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay, especially since Mr Schue told us not to bother you when you do come back. He said that…you were particularly emotional when you told him to stop letting us come around you. I couldn't imagine you with emotion."

"That asshole!" Sebastian snapped. He told him he was in near tears or some shit like that, right? He was about to get down to that school and punch him. He felt betrayed, like his tears were something that was not supposed to be discussed. It felt like the equivalent of Schuester describing his naked body to him. He felt fucking _violated_. Fuck. No.

Hummel was used to him flipping out by this point. "Sebastian, I assure you there's nothing humiliating about human emotion."

"I'm not human so fuck off," Sebastian hissed.

"Under normal circumstances, I'd agree," Hummel said, but then sighed. "However, you'd been showing humanlike characteristics lately and I'm not sure what to believe."

He hated this. He'd rather Hummel hate him and not talk to him and tell him to go away. He liked that better. This was pure and utter torture for Sebastian, having people care about him. He didn't know why he was so allergic to the thought of people caring about him. It was because they didn't get him, and if they knew he was a weak coward, they'd probably laugh at his face.

Just as he heard Hummel's jeering in his head, Sebastian felt tears filling his eyes all over again. Not again. No more. Fuck. He was so tired of crying. So, so tired of crying! He wanted it to stop. He didn't know how to make it stop.

"Yeah, fuck off," Sebastian repeated his earlier statement, trying to keep his voice steady.

Hummel noticed it being off anyway. "Why is your voice so off? What's going on there?"

"Nothing. I have a cold," Sebastian immediately said, his heart racing. "Okay? I have a cold."

"Stop being so defensive," Hummel sighed. "Are you going to come tomorrow?"

No, he wanted to move out of this country and go back to Paris and break into his Father's stash and drink himself and then break himself into pieces and throw himself off a building and die—

"Sebastian!" Hummel was calling out to him.

Sebastian had been panting. He felt abnormally sweaty and his heart was racing. He didn't know what was going on but Hummel being on the phone was making it worse. He felt like a fish out of water, gulping for air. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His life…he couldn't stop thinking about killing himself. His knees were tremble-y and his hands were shaky and he just…

"Sebastian, I'm coming there." Hummel finally decided. "I'm going to ask Blaine for your address and come there."

Sebastian wanted to say no, but he didn't know if he could talk without bursting into tears or whatever. He sat down on the edge of his bed, looking down at his lap. He was still shaky and tired. He couldn't stop thinking about just ending it. His heart was racing. He felt like it was just about to eject itself from his chest.

He shoved his phone away. Thinking about the fact that Hummel would be here soon was making him panic even more. If Hummel lived anywhere close to McKinley and Sebastian bet he did, it wouldn't take him more than ten minutes – tops, to get to his home which Sebastian could pretty much walk to if he wasn't such a lazy son of a bitch.

It took Hummel half an hour to get there. Sebastian still hadn't calmed down by then. He heard his Mother greeting Hummel in and telling him in that disgustingly cheerful voice of hers that Sebastian was upstairs.

Hummel stepped inside Sebastian's room, only to see Sebastian sitting by his window. He wasn't shaking (he might just throw himself out of the window if he was shaking and Hummel was around) but he was looking down at his feet and crying his bloody eyes out.

Hummel wrapped his arms around him and pulled himself close to him. Normally, Sebastian would shy away but this time, he let himself be pitiful in Hummel's arms. He sobbed. He fucking sobbed in Hummel's arms. Hummel looked shocked as fuck but he didn't say anything.

He just held him. It was the nicest thing that anyone had ever done for Sebastian in…ever.

Hummel just kept on holding him and he didn't complain. Sebastian didn't get why. It was just so nice…to be held that Sebastian just cried even harder because he wasn't used to being held.

Hummel held him for a long time and he didn't even complain! Sebastian didn't know how that was even possible since he was annoying himself and Sebastian believed he could be such a narcissistic person.

"Are you feeling any better?" Hummel asked, his voice soft. Like he was talking to a little kid.

Normally, that tone would piss Sebastian off but being in the state he was then, he wanted to be held and coddled with and treated like a five year old. Sebastian didn't respond to that.

Hummel rubbed his side. He didn't know if that was supposed to be comforting or whatever. It was a little weird because it was _Hummel_ that was touching him. "You had a panic attack, you know?"

Sebastian shuddered. He didn't want to think about it. "Yeah, whatever." He didn't know what he called them but he didn't call them panic attacks. He didn't want to think about them like panic attacks. The thought of that scared the shit out of him.

Hummel frowned and kept on looking at Sebastian's face. "Do these happen often?"

Sebastian sat up, thinking he at least owed Hummel the truth. The skeleton was out of the closet, so there was no use trying to stuff it back in when Hummel had already seen some of it. "Yeah," he said, running his hand through his hair. "Not that bad though."

"What are you thinking about?" Hummel suddenly asked. "When you're like that?"

"What would I be thinking about?" Sebastian snorted. His voice had softened dramatically when he said the next sentence. "Offing myself."

"No," Hummel's eyes blazed when he heard that. "No, Sebastian."

"I thought you hated me," Sebastian scoffed as he rubbed his knee. Fuck. Stupid lesions. All of them, under his clothing, hurting. It was worse because he was actually clothing. Tomorrow, he was going to use his damned lesions as an excuse not to wear clothes around the house.

"I don't hate you," Hummel ensured.

Sebastian suddenly felt angry, incredibly angry. He didn't know how his emotions could switch from wanting to throw himself off a bus to wanting to throw someone under a bus but it just did. "Fuck you! You hate me! _You all hate me! _You all fucking want me dead. Every single one of you little midget whores with your songs and your little Glee club! All of you!"

Hummel watched Sebastian dissolve back into his bed. "I don't want anyone dead," he stated, his voice strong. He stood up, wandering towards Sebastian and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Did you mean it?"

"What?" Sebastian murmured.

"About you wanting to kill yourself?" Hummel definitely didn't beat around the bush.

Sebastian laughed, his laugh was hollow before he shut his eyes and slowly nodded his head. He was glad he wasn't crying anymore. He was tired of all the fucking tears all the bloody time. He watched Hummel move away, swallowing the lump that was in his throat. "What? You thought I was kidding, Hummel?"

"No," Hummel softly said. "I was hoping it was more of a heat of the moment sort of thing."

Sebastian wondered if it was a heat of the moment sort of thing before he just shrugged. "Maybe it was. I don't know, Hummel."

Hummel nodded his head. "If you need anyone, Sebastian, to hold you, to listen…" then you were a real fucking loser, Sebastian finished off for Hummel in his head, "…then please feel free to call."

Yet again, Sebastian was stunned. "You're too good for me, you know that, Hummel?"

Hummel nodded his head. "I know," he said before he left the household. "The Glee club isn't done with you by the way. We will still be trying to communicate with you now that Mr Schue had left us with the task…more now probably because Mr Schue wants to actually obey your wishes."

Sebastian snorted. He guessed. He was oddly feeling so much better because of it. Maybe Hummel wasn't as bad as he thought.

He was glad he was back in school the next day. He didn't know what he was going to do. He was afraid he was behind on everything even if he was out of school for only twenty-four hours. He'd not been accustomed to it. He'd gone to Chemistry, and smiled to himself. Ha! He remembered the guy's name. Mr Swayer. Yes. That was good. He remembered the art teach by her first name, considering everyone called her Ms Sandy or something or rather.

He had to do a collage for art. He didn't even know what a collage was so he asked some chick that had huge tits and no body fat. She just laughed at him and went back to listening to her iPod.

He then saw how a collage looked like. He could cut up things with scissors. He could do that. He actually finished this one quickly. He made a tiny collage of a butterfly and stuck it in the sketchbook. He'd coloured in five pages with acrylics as a background like the woman asked him too. He was feeling pretty damn optimistic.

Chem was nice and art was nice. He actually felt like going to his History class –

Then some fucking asshole shoved him into a closet and locked him there.

After about three hours, Sebastian was thinking he was just going to die there. He surprisingly didn't end up bawling his eyes out. He had his phone with him but there was just no fucking signal in there (how convenient). He was sitting there in a pair of baggy pants and a huge blouse and sweater vest combo. His Mom picked it out for him and he was sure he had to blame her.

He was wearing a bowtie. He was sort of hoping Blaine was going to see him today.

After being locked in there for four hours, he'd managed to be saved. Surprisingly, by Jewish rodent, Blaine and Hummel. He had no idea how they found out but he guessed that there was a gloating jock involved.

"Jesus," Blaine called out.

"What? My bowtie's better than yours today, Blaine?" he drew attention to his bowtie, which was pretty cool-looking actually. Real nice teal colour.

Hummel was just sighing. "Sit with us at lunch today. Your miserable comment just made me take on some form of pity for you."

"Fine," Sebastian said, and he was actually a little glad that Hummel was trying to save him from drowning or something like that. "Your excuse to get me to have lunch with you is funny. I know you're just interested in looking at me, Hummel. Secretly, you want to fuck me. Admit it."

"Yes, I do," Hummel was obviously mocking him. "Now, get your ass out of that closet."

"I'm already out of the closet," Sebastian snorted. He saw Hummel was smiling. Sebastian made a funny.

Sebastian sat down with Hummel, Blaine and Co when they were having their lunch. He pulled out his crummy lunch box and looked at what was in it. "This is ridiculous," he said.

"What?" Hummel leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. "Looks like a perfect balanced lunch."

Sebastian laughed. What was up with his Mother with trying to feed him dairy products was all he wanted to know? Sebastian was so fussy with dairy it wasn't even funny. Leave it to his Mom to feed his bones (even the ones that were inappropriately growing out of nowhere).

He wanted to break something. He wasn't sure why it was pissing him off so much. He had a yoghurt, a container that was filled with cubes of cheese and a chicken sandwich. He offered the yoghurt to Hummel and the cheese to Blaine, whom took it with delight apparently and Sebastian chewed through the crusts of his sandwich.

Most people he knew took off the crusts. Sebastian only ate the crusts off sandwiches. Huh. He hated the taste of crustless bread. In his old school, they prepackaged crustless bread. Sebastian was not happy.

"Are we friends now, Hummel?" Sebastian suddenly asked.

Hummel looked surprised, but he slowly but surely nodded his head. "Yeah. We are."

Sebastian nodded his head. "Never had friends before," he didn't say it in a pitying way, more of just an observation. He picked off a cucumber from his sandwich just because he was bored and he didn't want to eat anymore. "How is being friends with you like? Are you going to end up taking me out to shop or whatever?"

"If you want," Hummel seemed to be amused. "I have no qualms about shopping."

Blaine just shook his head. "You wouldn't want Kurt to talk you shopping. It's not the thing for a budding relationship. Trust me. I've been there." He smiled at Hummel, like he was sharing a secret with him. Sebastian wasn't sure if he was jealous of Hummel or if Blaine that they were sharing secrets with smiles in ways that Sebastian didn't really get.

He wondered what it took for anyone to make that kind of connection with another person. Probably nothing that Sebastian would get. Probably everything that Sebastian was devoid of—stuff like trust, and lack of secrets. He didn't know how to live without playing games with people he cared about.

He knew it was wrong. He wasn't stupid. It just wasn't enough to make him stop. His personality had always been a problem for him, just not in this way.

Rodent Jewish drama queen just smiled. "So, Sebastian, how are your classes?'

Sebastian just shrugged. "They're whatevs."

"You're in the same year as Blaine, right?" she asked, only for Sebastian to nod his head.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "I've never seen you in any of our classes."

"No, but I see you," Sebastian murmured, not thinking that the rest of the information was important. Easy enough. Blaine didn't see him because he wasn't looking for him. Obviously. He winked. "And that's more important," he licked his lips in a suggestive manner.

"Sebastian," Blaine laughed, almost as if he'd done something funny. Sebastian just wanted to grab Blaine by his shoulder and make out with him until he lost his breath half the time.

Hummel didn't seem too pleased but he let Sebastian to come out of his cage. "We are heading off to the Lima Bean after school," Hummel suddenly sounded out. "You should join."

"Excuse me, Hummel, but you're not the voice of this club," Lopez was not happy with him yet.

"Excuse me, Santana, but I didn't recall inviting you," Hummel offered her a sickly sweet smile. Shit was going down. "In fact, some of us do want to accept Sebastian with open arms. Some of us do want to move on from the whole Warblers ordeal."

"Leave in your bubble of denial," Lopez rolled her eyes. "Come on, Britt. Let's sit somewhere else."

Lopez got up to leave and the blonde airhead along with her. Sebastian noticed that she wasn't the only one to leave. Jones was also leaving and so was Puckerman. Huh. Fun stuff. Abrams was still sitting (not that he could get up and bolt), Jewish rodent was still picking at her tasteless salad crap, other blonde airhead was still there, and some other people that Sebastian didn't really care about.

Oh, and one of the other blonde cheerleaders gave up and left too. Chick with red lipstick. Fabray.

Sebastian just swallowed the lump in his throat. Whatever. He didn't expect anyone to like him anyway. He stood up, feeling incredibly tired. "Nah, thanks. I'll pass," he insisted on not coming along.

"You're coming," Hummel was adamant about it. "I've already phoned your Mother about it. She was particularly happy that you were joining in for a coffee."

"You phoned my Mother?" Sebastian believed that it was something she'd say. Fuck. No. "Hummel, you're a shady asshole."

Hummel smirked. "Coming from the King of Shadiness himself?"

Sebastian just shrugged. He didn't want to go to the Lima Bean but he would anyway. He wanted coffee. He looked over at his watch, and felt slightly ill. He wondered if any of the teachers were going to call his Mother about the fact that he seemingly disappeared for four periods but then he realised that this was fucking McKinley. Like they gave a damn. He calmed down and decided to prepare himself for one of those ugly ass Spanish sessions they had with Schuester.

Maybe he was getting friends, Sebastian thought to himself as he left.

He wasn't sure if he was happy or scared. Or maybe a bit of both. He was a little nauseous, because he was going to get into Schuester's class. He tried not to think about it. He had to put in all his energy into enduring his crap.

Just as he walked inside, he saw that Mr Schuester's class was pretty much empty. Sebastian was the first one around.

"Hey," Schuester looked up from where he was standing. "Got a second?"

"Nope," Sebastian said, trying to get to his seat but Schuester placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Sebastian," Schuester's voice was soft. "I looked up your condition online and I just don't fully understand it. I have a few questions to ask. If you're willing to stay a bit after class."

No, he wasn't. "Fine," he just wanted Schuester off his back. What could he possibly ask anyway? He went to sit in the back. The class was boring as fuck when it did start after a pep talk from the guy. He looked for Blaine and realised, smiling to himself, Blaine was looking for him too. Blaine shared a smile and when they had to pair up to do activity sheets, Blaine actually swooped by to do his with Sebastian.

Huh. Maybe friends were the best thing that ever happened to him. Sebastian thought to himself, watching Blaine turn his Spanish book to the page their lesson was on.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	7. From Spirals and Denial

_i always forget to respond to reviewers. don't worry guys, i'm not ignoring you. as for lucky333123, definitely! people finding out about Seb's condition is the fun bit of things. _

* * *

Chapter Seven

_From Spirals and Denial_

* * *

Sebastian had wandered off to Schuester after class was done. Blaine said he'd be waiting for him at Hummel's locker. Sebastian was looking at Schuester, waiting for questions and he hoped they weren't going to make him have an emotional breakdown or anything (you never know, huh?).

"Okay," Schuester nodded his head. "If let's say – you get hurt around your shoulder, what happens next?"

"Overnight, I grow this huge ugly lesion on the place." Sebastian said, deciding to move his sweater vest and blouse a bit so that Schuester could see the multiple he had on his hipbone. "They stay for a long time. Months sometimes, and then they go away. First time I had one of these, they thought I had cancer."

Schuester looked pale. Sebastian moved closer.

"You want to touch?" Sebastian asked, only for Schuester to shake his head.

"That's pretty inappropriate." Ha! Sebastian wanted to laugh. This guy was the touchiest person he'd ever met. "I just…I need to take it in."

Sebastian nodded his head before he added on. "And when they go away, that's when I know I grew all this new bone. When you're covered in these, it's difficult to move anyway and then when your bone grows and shit, you try to move your arm back during a dance move and figure out you physically can't. Sometimes, I try to bend my knees to pick up something off the ground—doesn't happen. It's…scary because you think nothing's happening but shit is happening. And sometimes, you look back at your body and realise: well, fuck, this isn't normal."

Schuester nodded his head. "And you've been helping Kurt by getting beat up for him."

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah, I'm stupid that way."

"Wouldn't that make everything worse?" Schuester was pointing out the obvious, looking over at Sebastian's hip lesions. Sebastian finally smoothed over his sweater vest and blouse. "I don't understand, Sebastian."

"You don't have to," Sebastian turned around to leave but Schuester went to grab his arm.

"Do you like Kurt?" Schuester asked, raising an eyebrow. "From what I know, you're gay."

Sebastian scoffed, rolling his eyes. "No," he didn't know what his problem was with Hummel. "Do you think I know why I did it? I don't know. I just couldn't watch Hummel get beat into a pulp so I acted like an idiot."

He left soon after that.

He went off with Blaine and Hummel to the Lima Bean. Hummel ordered nonfat mocha stuff. Blaine ordered a medium drip and Sebastian got himself one of those fattening concoctions that made Hummel raise an eyebrow. Jewish rodent…_Berry_… wanted some soy latte whatever crap. Evans also ordered some sort of soy drink and Hudson was getting what Sebastian got. Huh.

They all sat down in some sort of circle of pathetic. Sebastian got to sit down next to Blaine. Fuck. He loved how Blaine smelled. Sad thing was Blaine was in between him and Kurt. Whatever.

"I've assigned myself into a brilliant dance class," Berry said, running her hand through her hair. "It's going to be amazing to put on my application for NYADA. It's quite a well-known one as well. I'm having my instructor as a reference for my CV too."

Hummel nodded his head. "I'm done with my application. I sent it in. It's a little dry, but I believe that it's good enough for an acceptance."

"I never read it!" Berry exclaimed, her voice filled with shock. "Kurt, what if there are spelling mistakes?"

"Really?" Hummel raised an eyebrow. "Would I have a spelling mistake in anything I sent it? It's fine, Rachel. Blaine read it and so did my Dad. The counsellor read it too and she was exceptionally pleased with the result. I've put in the effort."

"Berry, let Hummel do whatever the fuck he wants," Sebastian commented, rolling his eyes.

Berry didn't like Sebastian's tone. "Well, this is his future. I'm merely concerned for him," she explained before she added on. "Besides, don't you take beatings for Kurt now? I think you've grown too fond of him that you're quick to take his side."

"What a stupid conversation," Sebastian was bored and he didn't want to fight about something so stupid. "Firstly, let him do whatever the fuck he wants. Just because you read it doesn't guarantee he's getting anywhere. Secondly, don't tell me who I'm fond of, Berry. By the way, you're not one of them."

"Stop it, guys," Blaine cut in, looking at Sebastian with that expression. Fuck, he melted like butter on bread.

Berry sighed. "Fine. What do you want to talk about then, oh great Sebastian?"

Sebastian was rummaging for a topic. He didn't know what to talk about and he wasn't going to start discussing his genetic disorder or his parental issues out of nowhere. He wasn't starting to discuss his alcohol abuse or the…depression? He wasn't depressed though, was he? Whatever. He wasn't depressed. His ability to cry at anything. Yeah. That sounded proper enough.

Sebastian shrugged. "What are you doing over the weekend?"

"Going to said dance class that I've been talking about," Berry explained. "Look! The conversation is right to where it started."

Sebastian was rolling his eyes and sipped his coffee.

"Well, I'm actually spending Saturday with Sebastian, along with Finn of course. Blaine is probably joining in," okay, that last part made the first sentence acceptable but just barely. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Your attempts at getting closs to me fails, Hummel," Sebastian explained, playing around with his coffee. "Are you taking me to your beloved Breadstix again? Because I'm not fond of that place I just figured out."

"Fine, stay over for dinner at my house," Hummel was insisting. "I'm sure my Mother would love to cook for you."

"Every Mother likes to cook for me, Hummel," Sebastian snorted. "If my Mother had it their way, she'd probably just feed me all day long until I'm fatter than I am now."

Hummel raised an eyebrow. "Fatter? Sweetie, you don't know what fat is. And you probably have never heard of a proper dinner."

"Did you just call me _sweetie_?" Sebastian was smirking. "Yeah, Mom tells me dino nuggets is not a constituent of a proper dinner."

"You're such a poor deprived child," Hummel explained, shaking his head. "Blaine gained six pounds after being introduced to Carole's astounding cooking. And yes, your Mother is correct. Dino nuggets are not a constituent of a proper dinner."

"Shit, you scared me, Hummel," Sebastian taking a sip of his coffee. "Might not come over just in case my pants won't fit in three months' time or whatever."

"You best not let your vanity issues keep you from spending time with your friends, Smythe."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. So, he was their friend. Huh. That was fun. He had friends. He might just call his Mother and tell him this—no, no, he wouldn't but she'd definitely squeal for him and hug him until his blood was constricted. She was worried that Sebastian wouldn't make friends. _Don't make lackeys, Sebastian. Make friends_ was her advice. He didn't know the difference. Huh.

Blaine decided to dip in and talk. "How's your Dad?" he suddenly asked Sebastian.

Sebastian nodded his head. "Pretty cool," Blaine knew about how shitty his Father could be. "Nearly broke the table a while ago. Mom's a bit pissed at him. He's been at the house for about five days and seven bottles of champagne are gone. She accused me of drinking first, and when she figured it was all Daddy Dearest, she broke down and started to cry and shit like that. My Mom is emotionally unstable."

"Your Father's an alcoholic?" Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't like the word," Sebastian expressed, snorting. "He prefers the idea that he flirts with liquor too much. Whatever."

"Speaking of alcohol," Blaine was looking at him for a while. "How is your alcohol consumption?" he was looking at Sebastian.

"Nil," Sebastian explained. "Nada. Non-existent. I wake up every day and I don't have a headache, that kind of crap. Not even a glass of wine at dinner or anything."

"That's good," Evans decided after a while, before shuddering. "Been drinking with Finn this week and it was…"

"…whoa, don't go there," Hudson shook his head. Hummel just shot glares. Sebastian was pretty sure that Hummel and alcohol were not close friends or anything.

"You two," Berry just shook her head.

Sebastian had decided to head back home. Thankfully, nobody was taking him home. Great. He drove back home and then realised he needed to do loads of work to catch up. Thankfully for Sebastian, he wasn't planning on sleeping tonight with how much everything hurt.

He immersed himself in his notes. He didn't get any homework for today. He probably wasn't getting any for a while because of the fact that exams were coming up.

By the time it was three am, Sebastian was buried in his notes.

"Are you still awake?" he heard his Mother call out, looking up to see her standing there and rubbing her eyes. She moved towards him. "What's going on?"

"Uh…" he'd been caught red-handed studying. He didn't think he'd ever be in this kind of situation before. He just shrugged, and tried to place his hand on his neck. It hurt to move his arms by this point so he just didn't.

"Sebastian, darling. No."

"Get out of my room," Sebastian spat out, his hands were shaking. What the fuck was he trying to hide? So what? He was studying. This was what every parent wanted for their child or whatever. "What do you want? I'm busy studying, Mother."

"Sebastian, it's three am," she tried to remind him, sitting down on his bed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Sebastian spat out, spitting on her face. Whatever. He felt like he was close to tears. "Mom, I don't know what's wrong with me. I just…"

She moved closer to him and just wrapped her arms around him. He eased into her hold. He was actually scared. He had no idea what was going on with him at all. He was just always either somewhat close to tears, really pissed off, really empty or contemplating ending his own life. Depression was a scary word. Clinical depression sounded like he was sitting in a dark room with lightning or a storm in the background. Or rain.

He wanted to push her away now. "I just...I have a lot of shit to do."

"Sebastian, please, just go to bed." She was cupping his face by now. "Please, just go to sleep."

"I will after I'm done with this chapter," he promised, what he didn't want to tell her was the chapter was fourteen pages long. He'd gotten a head start on his exam subjects…and they were already murdering him.

"No, Sebastian. Now." She hissed. "You're scaring me, Sebastian. You are honestly scaring me. This isn't like you at all…you're just slipping away from my fingers and I don't know how to keep you from falling."

"I'm fine," Sebastian insisted. "It's just it's late and I'm emotional for whatever reason. Whatever. Maybe I'm menstruating or something." He snorted just as he said that.

"Sebastian…" she sighed. "Close that book."

He did close that book, but only for a little while. When his Mother helped him put his notes away, and gave him a good night's kiss, she'd left. Sebastian waited for about five minutes before he'd opened up the lights and the books again.

At around five am, his Mother opened the door, and was looking angry this time. "Sebastian!"

Sebastian looked up from his books, he'd been reading the same sentence for the second time. His ass hurt him but he had to get used to that. Everything hurt.

Lena leaned down to stare at him for some time. She placed a hand on his knee.

"I'll tell your Father that you're sick, okay?" Lena moved to leave. She was going to lie to his Father, whom was probably incredibly hung-over and didn't want to hear shit about anything.

After around ten minutes of staring into space and wondering what the hell had happened to him, Lena came back. He honestly didn't know what happened to him. He was that kid that always drank, didn't give a fuck about his grades and just wanted to have sex all the time.

Now, he always broke down crying or sobbing or having panic attacks randomly in different places. He had some sort of depression problem (not real clinical depression, huh, right?).

He studied all the bloody time and the thought of not having amazing, perfect grades made him want to puke. He didn't know why. He'd been installed with the fear that if he got shit grades, it would not be okay. Nothing will ever be okay. In fact, if he failed his exams, he was already making actual plans to off himself and they were pretty loud in his head.

It was stupid. He'd be the kid that shot himself because he got a B+ or something, and everyone would laugh at him for being so stupid that he couldn't get higher than that even though all he bloody did was study. His 'friends' were stealing him away from his books.

His hands hurt so much because all he did was write notes and do schematics.

"Go to bed," Lena said. "And when you wake up, I'll be here, okay? But you can't keep doing this, Sebastian. You can't keep hurting yourself like this."

Sebastian slowly nodded his head. He wasn't sure how he was hurting himself though. He was foggy from sleep or something to that effect. He went to his bed, collapsed and just fell to a sweet slumber.

He woke up at around one pm, looking down at his lap. He didn't know what to do and his head was foggy. He got up to look for his Mother and saw her sitting down on the couch, sitting with his dogs, and brushing their coats.

"Hey," he sat down beside her.

He picked up one of his babies, placing her on his lap and stroking her fur. "Sorry. I was just a little stressed. Won't do it again, okay?"

"I don't believe you," was all that Lena said. "I'm booking you an appointment with a psychiatrist."

Sebastian was looking at her. "Want to call every other doctor in all of Lima? I have a psychiatrist, a physiotherapist, a GP, an orthopedic and a fucking oncologist that always tells me to undergo radiation therapy because he's convinced for the last five years that what I have is a strange form of cancer that just not been looked into. I'm pissed. I am fucking pissed."

"Well, you need all of those doctors," Lena insisted, shaking her head. "Maybe not the oncologist but he has this idea that you could use radiation therapy for your flare-ups and he's shown me some papers about them."

"I don't want radiation therapy. I don't have cancer for fuck's sake," Sebastian didn't want to be treated with radiation. Sounded to him as close to cancer as it could get and in his head, cancer was serious and he wasn't a serious person. Well…then again… he grabbed the box of Lindor truffles that were on the table and looked into it. Yeah. Nothing. He was hoping that his eyesight was wrong last night.

Lena placed her hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "It'll be okay."

"Whatever," Sebastian was just not happy and he didn't want to go anywhere that involved them diagnosing him with some mood disorder or something. He was just weak. That was his problem.

"What did you eat yesterday?"

Sebastian tried to think back that far. He just shrugged. "One of those cup-noodle things, and I ate that box of Lindor truffles for you," he said, motioning for the box.

Lena sighed deeply. "What am I going to do with you? You don't eat enough and whatever you do eat is consistent of fat, sugar and empty calories."

"I'm depressed. Cut me some slack," Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"So, you admit it," Lena noted, watching Sebastian realise that he did actually admit it – in front of the wrong person too. He wanted to tape his mouth shut sometimes. "You are depressed. It's effecting your sleeping habits and your eating habits. It's wearing you down. You've lost weight and you look horrible."

Sebastian didn't know how to take back what he said. "It's not a problem," he suddenly explained.

"It _is_ a problem," Lena explained. Sebastian just wondered when she left so he could go back to doing his notes and shit. He was hoping he didn't miss too much work.

His Father came back home around dinner time and asked Sebastian to come downstairs. There they were, the happy family. Sebastian was chewing on his roast potatoes, avoiding his carrots, and his Father was telling him he was going to end up fat, lonely and dying of some sort of bowel cancer because he didn't get enough fibre in his diet.

Sebastian stood up, slamming his hands on the table.

"Sebastian, your hands," his Mother reminded him. "You have become so reckless. You can't hurt your body like this, Sebastian. You can't."

"I just did," he reminded her, smirking towards her. He didn't know where it had all gone. His ability to not get hurt for a few months because he'd been so cautious. He'd lost all bloody grace he'd mustered over the last few years.

Jean had sighed. "You're out of control, boy. If you keep on going like this, you're going to be disabled within a few short months."

Lena was glaring at Jean. "Don't you dare say that."

"Why not?" Sebastian spat out, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and rage. "Because he's _right_? You _know_ he's right. Might as well just do it anyway. Who cares if I'm sixteen or if I'm sixty by the time I get disabled? It's going to happen anyway. Might as well get used to it."

He turned around, feeling tears starting to surface his eyes. His lips were twitching and trembling. Fuck. He was tired of this. So. Fucking. Much. He looked back, just to see Jean putting a piece of carrot into his mouth, staring at Sebastian as if he could read him perfectly.

"Your psychiatrist appointment is in a week," Jean explained. "It was supposed to be a month, but I've intervened." His name was too damn well-known. "Sit down. Eat dinner."

"Yeah?" Sebastian snorted. "No. Thank you."

Sebastian had left to go to the room and just before he'd gotten to the stairs, he could hear his Father in a voice that made him wonder if he was either trying to convince his Mother or himself. "Sebastian _will_ be fine. I swear on it."

Sebastian snorted. Shouldn't wish for things you had no control over, Daddy Dearest.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	8. From Parents and Fights

Chapter Eight

_ From Parents and Fights_

* * *

That morning, when he woke up, he saw that Jean Smythe was sitting down to stare at him as he slept. Not creepy at all. Sebastian sat up, and looked over at his Father with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes?" Sebastian asked, his voice clear as he spoke.

"You look like shit," Jean announced, staring at him for some time.

"When did you give a fuck about how I looked like?" Sebastian asked, getting out of his bed. He looked at himself in the mirror. He did look like shit, but whatever. He ran his hand through his hair. Ick. He was feeling weak and tired. He didn't eat dinner and he was hungry. He opened up one of his drawers, and picked up the bag of choco-coated pretzels he had there. "When did you give a fuck about me at all?"

Jean sighed deeply. "Sebastian, please."

"Please _what_?" he asked, looking back at his Father. He gave him no mercy. He didn't want to. Sebastian looked back to stare at Jean Smythe's face. "Yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You are sick, Sebastian," Jean said, his voice now more so stern. "You believe that you're fine, but you're _not_, alright? And we need to get you help."

"Whatever," Sebastian scoffed, placing his hand on his shoulder. The lesions – fuck, they were annoying and hurting him. He wanted to rip out his skin from his deformed skeleton.

He got himself his pile of books, and then his rucksack. "I thought you wanted me to study. Why is it that the first time I've been actually studying, you and Mother Dearest seem to find it a huge problem and that I have some sort of mental disease or whatever?"

"Because it's all you ever do?"

"Well, all you ever do is drink but apparently, that's not a problem or up for discussion," Sebastian spat back, his eyes dark. He felt rebellious. Jean looked like he wanted to speak up but he didn't. Huh. Maybe the fucker did give a fuck about him after all. Awesome. "Instead of you, I'm the one that's going to AA. Fun stuff. Does Mother still believe that my depression is caused by the lack of alcohol I'm taking in?"

"I think you've had this for a while," Jean insisted. "And you used alcohol to suppress everything."

Sebastian looked back to stare at Jean for some time. "Yeah," he realised. That was the end of his smarmy remarks he guessed. "See you."

Just before Sebastian had left to go to school, Jean pulled him backwards and gave him a hug – one of those that made Sebastian believe that his Father was trying to break through his ribcage with it. Sebastian eased into it and pressed his head against his Father's shoulder.

"Sebastian, I love you."

Sebastian definitely wasn't expecting that. He looked up to see his Father's face, not sure how to read his expression that had grown quite somber and miserable now.

"I'll pick you up from school today," the man insisted, rubbing Sebastian's shoulder. "Alright?"

Sebastian was not used to affection from his Father. It was akin to a rock coming to life and hugging him and comforting him – it was so fucking weird.

Sebastian had gone off to school that morning, believing that things were okay…maybe that hug did install some sort of feeling in him. He'd had two weeks before his December holiday, where he had to cram himself and study.

Those two weeks were hell on Earth.

Sebastian was shoved and trotted around like a paper airplane, and crushed on and stepped on. He hoped they wouldn't touch his face. Right now, he had so many lesions on his body that it was physically painful to sit or lie down but then again, it hurt to walk. He could feel every slice of pain in his body. It was not made to hold this many lesions all at once.

He walked to the nurse's office and told her he needed to rest sometimes during PE, where he should've been studying instead of sleeping for fuck's sake.

He hadn't attended Glee or anything. He just went to school.

He had two Saturday's with Hudson and Hummel to attend before his break, where he'd use the excuse that he couldn't come up because he had to spend family time.

The first one involved Carole grabbing him by his wrist and making inquiries about how devoid of fat he was. This was followed by so much food that Sebastian couldn't stand up straight afterwards because he was so fucking full. He'd stuffed himself in Chinese food and spring rolls.

"I'm going to bust," Sebastian said, lying down on Hummel's couch. "Christmas with you guys must be fun. That or everyone pukes up dinner."

Sebastian was wrapping himself around in a blanket. "Hummel, I'm so bloated someone might mistake me for being a chick on her period."

Hummel just shook his head. "Anymore cracks about the amount we can stuff ourselves with, Smythe?"

Sebastian thought for a few moments, and then nodded his head. "Yeah. One more." He smiled warmly. He was actually liking this. "Your family ever been in an eating competition?"

Hummel actually nodded his head. "Not too surprisingly. Finn has been in several hotdog eating competitions with Puck where they record how much you can stuff yourself with before you projectile vomit. I've been to one myself. Not with hotdogs of course, but with cake."

"You win?" Sebastian asked.

Hummel shook his head. "Surprisingly so! The _only_ reason I risked getting fatter was because the grand prize involved a gift card to one of my favourite stores."

Sebastian just broke down laughing before he stopped. "Fuck. I am in pain from the amount I ate. I sent my Mother a picture of our dinner and she was surprised. She knew I couldn't scarf down a fourth of that plate probably."

"Carole got a little carried away due to your lanky frame," Hummel insisted. "After all, you're around the same height as her baby but her baby has a bit more on you. To be honest, I thought the great Sebastian Smythe could handle more than that plate."

"What? Are you _insane_?" Sebastian's eyes widened. "You saw the size of my plate. Even Hudson was snickering to himself when he saw it. I bet even he couldn't have finished it. The only reason I even attempted to was because my Mother told me that when you go to another person's house, you eat whatever the fuck they offer you."

"That's nice manners," Hummel sounded oddly surprised. "However, honestly, I am amazed at the dent you made in that plate."

"I'm in pain because of that dent," Sebastian groaned, rubbing his hands over the covers.

Hummel was amused. "I'm so tempted to go get an apple just to eat and torture you."

"Hummel, I'll puke on you," Sebastian shook his head. "Next time, you're meeting my family. If Hudson is used to his Mother's cooking, he might starve on my Mother's portions."

"Can't wait for next Saturday then," Hummel stated. "Am I going to starve too?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Probably not. In all honesty, now that I think about it, my Mother might stuff you guys. Not so much me. She knows I don't need that much food but she probably got freaked from that picture or whatever."

"Uh oh," Hummel explained, shaking his head. "I'm wearing my fat pants then."

Sebastian laughed as he watched Hummel move. "What? Where are you going?" Hummel was looking through DVD's. "What are we watching?"

"We're watching Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs." And Sebastian realised in that moment, he honestly wanted to murder Hummel but it was a good night, even if Sebastian was close to vomiting at the end of the night. Huh. He wondered if people got food hangovers too. "Have you watched it?"

Sebastian shook his head. Hummel put the DVD in and sat close to him when they were watching it. Sebastian liked watching shit with him after all. He'd never guessed that much about him. Sebastian felt better halfway through the movie.

"I'm not in incredible pain anymore, Hummel," Sebastian murmured. "Still stuffed but not so much I'm worrying about puking."

"Grand," Hummel rolled his eyes, smiling weakly. He saw Hummel looked like he was thinking and Sebastian immediately concluded it as a shitty sign. "Sebastian, I just…do people still pick on you?"

Sebastian vigorously nodded his head. "Yeah. Why?" fuck. He was worried that he'd not get the ability to shrug anymore. Fuck.

"I'm going to get Puck to help you," Hummel immediately said. "I should've some time ago but I can't get him over the 'you should really help Sebastian' sort of thing. Finn isn't enough to take them out on his own. Sam's still on the fence about you too and I just…"

Sebastian just shrugged. Fuck. He was going to cry. He was going to miss being able to shrug. It was actually painful to do that shit right now. It was painful to do anything. "It's alright, Hummel." He insisted. "Whatever. I don't need help."

Hummel was biting his lower lip. "You got into a mess because of me."

"Whatever," Sebastian repeated his earlier statement. They ended their conversation and after the film, Sebastian looked for his coat. Hudson drove him back home without many questions, just if he was going to come back and if he liked their place and stuff like that. Sebastian was nice (as nice as he could be) when answering. He came home and started on some of his notes after he hugged his Mother and told him he was fine.

He was still immersing himself in his studies. He couldn't join any other clubs in the middle of the year, which tanked because stuff like that was good to put on his resume. He'd been working religiously day in and day out – except for Saturday. Oh, and somewhere between the time when he came back from school. If he bolted upstairs soon after, his Mother would think it was to study.

Fuck. Now, studying was a crime. What next? Breathing? Probably.

He was angry. People didn't get it. He was stupid. He needed to put in all this effort, else he'd just tank everything. He was willing to put in this effort. He had his laptop with him now. He had for a while. He had all of his shows, all of reasons to tank time – along with the afternoons he spent Facebook stalking, masturbating and talking to his friends and making plans with them to drink or fuck.

Right now, he didn't want any of that. He didn't care about any of that crap. All he cared about was getting on top of everything.

He had a test last week. He got a B on it. He'd felt the happiest he'd been in a long time. He'd never gotten grades like that before. He'd never gotten anything higher than a D before. He was so ecstatic about it.

Then Saturday happened.

Hummel came over for dinner along with Hudson. It was okay he guessed in the beginning. Lena hugged Hummel as if he was her own son, and then was complimenting Hudson on how big and strong he was. Sebastian was snorting from a corner.

"Be nice," Jean demanded from Sebastian, which hurt Sebastian.

"Don't you know I'm not nice?" Sebastian said in fake sadness before moving towards Hummel and Hudson. Lena was still commencing her hugging sessions. "Don't expect her to stop any time soon."

"Shush now, Sebastian," Lena was flushing deeply. "He's right though. I just…am fairly happy. Sebastian could be lonely."

"Mom, don't tell them about how friendless I am." Sebastian murmured before smiling as Lena turned to hug him. "Whoa, Mom. You've already done that a few times today."

"Yeah, I know," Lena turned around to face Hudson and Hummel. "Let's eat."

Sebastian had led Hudson and Hummel to the dining room where his Father was pouring wine for fuck's sake. Sebastian tried to smile. He surely hoped that his Father wouldn't lose control and chug the whole bottle.

"No offence but I thought this place would be bigger," Hudson explained. "It's like…home-y. I don't know. I just thought you lived in some sort of huge mansion."

"I offered that to Lena," Jean suddenly explained, before shaking his head. "She liked things simple. We have a big mansion in Paris, but it's quite empty and lonely. She doesn't like that so she insisted on a small house. I couldn't argue with her. I couldn't find a good reason as why we needed a big mansion – other than a good way to waste money."

Hudson nodded his head. "Cool." He took the plate that Lena had offered him. "What is this stuff?"

"That's quinoa, darling," Lena explained. She gestured towards the table. "I have fish and chicken if you want it a bit more savoury and olive oil. Oh, and salad and grilled vegetables for it. On the other hand, I have honey and maple syrup because Sebastian will only eat his quinoa if he drenches it in things that aren't good for him."

"Yup," Sebastian reached over for the maple, practically drowning the grain in it.

"This is brilliant," Hummel looked impressed. "Not many people I know cook with quinoa."

Sebastian snorted. His Mother cooked crap like this all the time. Sebastian was moving through the mush that his Mother gave him. The maple just made it tolerable. It was nothing that Sebastian would eat out of his own accord when he had McDonald's on speed dial.

Hummel had added his salad and fish. Of course. Sebastian rolled his eyes but was smiling to himself. Hudson was caught in a crossfire but ended up drowning it in maple like Sebastian did.

"So, are you boys in the same grade as Sebastian?" Sebastian tried not to flush at his Father's question because he knew last time Sebastian brought people over for dinner, they were college students that were thinking about dropping out. Said college students and Sebastian went through Jean's booze collection in a week.

"No," Hummel explained, and Sebastian saw his Father look at Sebastian with an angry face. "We are just a year older. I'm going to graduate soon."

Jean softened dramatically. "Oh, alright." He smiled at him. "What are your plans after graduation?"

"I'm hoping to get into NYADA,' Hummel explained. "It is a school in New York for the arts. My brother, Finn, isn't too sure.'

Hudson flushed just as Hummel said that. "Yeah, but I'm getting there."

Jean was nodding his head. Hummel looked over at Sebastian for some time. "Have you figured out what your plans are? You might not be graduating this year, but I'm just curious."

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah," his voice was dull. Hummel was waiting for an answer he wasn't getting.

"You never told me that," Jean was now prying into it. "I always suspected you still were thinking about what jobs would take you with your various felonies and your horrendous grades and…"

Sebastian looked down at his plate, suddenly having have lost his appetite as he put his spoon down. "And _what_?" he stood up now, eyes blazing. "You have a pretty respectful job that you don't fucking deserve and you don't see me telling you that you're not going to get a promotion because you're an alcohol-addled asshole."

Hummel and Hudson's eyes were practically as wide as dinner plates.

Jean stood up, his breathing short and sharp. "What are you expecting, Sebastian? Yes, you're murdering yourself right now. Studying all the time. Trying to make something better of yourself. It is not enough. It's not enough to erase the past. It's not enough to clear you of your various felonies and charges that you were admitted to. It's not enough. It will _never_ be enough."

"Jean!" Lena angrily stated. "We have guests. You both sit down and behave yourselves."

All of those words hit hard. Sebastian sat down and Jean sat down immediately afterwards. They were both glaring at each other. Sebastian leaned over to reach for the tissue box, wiping away the silent tears that had fallen without Sebastian's fucking permission. Fucking body.

"Jean," Lena looked over at him.

"I'm sorry," Jean automatically said. Sebastian knew he didn't mean it. Lena looked over at Sebastian right now.

Sebastian nodded his head. "I'm sorry," he didn't mean it either.

Lena nodded her head. Jean went back to eating and complimented Lena's cooking, whom didn't seem to be happy at all. Sebastian didn't say anything, playing with his bowl of mush. He kept on picking up tissues every now and then. Hudson and Hummel went back to chewing their food themselves.

After that, they went to Sebastian's room.

Hummel looked around. "This place is…plain," he said. There was no characteristics to Sebastian's room. It was boring old grey just like he liked it.

Sebastian picked up one of his dogs from their place. Hummel looked grossed out but Hudson was giving heart eyes and went to play with the other ones.

"What was that about?" Hummel suddenly asked.

Sebastian shrugged. "My Dad's a dick. I'm a dick. We're not a good combination around each other," he thought it was that simple when he knew it wasn't. He just took a deep breath. "Look, K, just…"

"Are you still having panic attacks?" Hummel moved towards him.

Sebastian nodded his head in a somber manner. "Yeah," he sounded sad to state that much. He just looked down at his feet.

"You haven't called me."

"Hummel, if I was going to call you every time I had a panic attack, you might as well be living here," Sebastian knew he was over exaggerating but he didn't want to be calling the fashion-obsessed male too often. Hell, he didn't want to be calling him period.

"Fine." Hummel said. "Let me live here then. I don't care. Just call me whenever you have one of those panic attacks."

"What are panic attacks?" Hudson suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sebastian turned around and just shrugged. "I don't know. Ask your stepbrother." He snidely called out, only to shut his eyes. "It's basically like a stress of a high state of panic, fine? That's it."

"Like stressed?" Hudson asked.

"No," Hummel explained, shaking his head. "I'll explain it to you later."

Sebastian snorted. "If you stick around for long enough, Hudson, you might even see me go through one."

"Don't even joke about that," Hummel's voice was dripping with anger.

"I'm not," Sebastian had honestly meant it. His eyes were on Hummel's frame for a few moments. Hummel took the time to let out a sigh before he moved to Sebastian and wrapped his arms around him. Sebastian was quick to push him off because he couldn't help but feel like Hummel would feel one or more of his lesions and he didn't know how to explain it.

"Why do you do that?" Hummel hissed. "Do you hate being comforted so badly that you nearly had to hurt me to prove your point?"

"I wish I could explain," Sebastian snorted.

"_Bullshit_," Hummel suddenly called out, his eyes were furious with their very blue colour right now. "You could explain but you don't because of some sort of stupid reason that only makes sense in _your_ head. Stop it, Sebastian. Stop all of it and then you can have friends and people that actually care about you."

Sebastian was more than just a bit shocked by Hummel's statement, mostly because the female-male hybrid was right. And Sebastian wasn't. Not at all.

Hummel knew he was right too. "Think about it," he said, turning to Hudson and gesturing for him to follow him. They were leaving, close to the door. "I'll see you next Saturday. I'll text you about plans if you want, alright?"

When Hummel received no response from Sebastian, he didn't seem shocked.

"Goodnight…" Sebastian stared at him for a few moments, "…Kurt."

Hummel stiffened in his position but he didn't turn back. "Goodnight, Sebastian," and with that, he was gone.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	9. From Exams and Christmas

Chapter Nine

_From Exams and Christmas_

* * *

By the time that winter break had come, Sebastian had decided to cage himself in his room. He rarely left it nowadays, even more so than usual. He buried himself in his studies and his Mother was yet again worried.

His psychiatrist gave him pills for his clinical depression. He was yet to take any of them. He just kept on throwing some here and there just so it seemed like the bottle was finishing.

He was not clinically depressed for fuck's sake. He was fine. He was just emotionally unstable because he was a weak human being.

He had no episodes for weeks now. He woke up every morning exhausted as he went to get his stupid fucking notes and do them all. He started off with History, and got most of it done within the first few days of the winter break.

It wasn't that he'd suddenly gained the knowledge to grasp things quickly. He was actually studying fourteen to sixteen hours a day, hooked up on caffeine pills, vitamins and sugar whenever he wanted. He'd not eaten a proper meal in that time because had no time.

He could not spill gummy worms on his notes and ruin them. He could easily spill actual food, like the mashed potatoes his Mother made for supper along with risotto. He did not eat that because it would stain his notes, so to the dogs it all went.

His Mother was worried about him. He told her to fuck off. He did not need any of this shit.

He immersed himself so much. He'd finished everything just a day before the examinations. He was weak. He'd lost himself in his studies so much that he nearly didn't know how to cope going out into the sunlight. He was self-conscious; almost as if people could tell how stupid he was by looking at him.

He went to sit his exams with adrenaline. He will get amazing grades. He will show his fucking Father that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.

He sat his exams with anticipation and fear. He could not drink or eat before an exam because of the butterflies that were punching him violently in the stomach and making him feel puke-y.

"What is that on your face?" he heard Hummel say.

Sebastian also did not leave the house because he had a huge ass lesion around his mouth. "A lesion," he snorted, shaking his head. "It's just some thingy that will go away."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Does it hurt?"

"Like fuck," Sebastian murmured, slightly happy he could tell someone – anyone – about his lesions, even if that someone was Kurt fucking Hummel.

"How'd you get it?"

Sebastian just shrugged, but he knew the answer. One of the jocks head-slammed him into the locker, and it effected his jaw. He couldn't stop crying afterwards. He was nearly sure he was going to probably lose his ability to sleep or something, but his doctor looked it over. He told him that he'd probably just have trouble eating after it ossified or stuff like that.

Sebastian didn't know how to feel about that. He just nodded his head, when his Mother held him and told him that she was going to get him semi-solids and ease him into that kind of diet if he was going to have trouble eating. Sebastian was eating the last of his gummy bears and shit, just in case he wouldn't be able to chew stuff like that.

He had a bunch of Twizzlers and stuff. He didn't even like Twizzlers. He just hated the idea of not being able to have one again.

"I think you know how you got it," Kurt hummed.

"Maybe," Sebastian shrugged. He did know how he got it. Hummel was apparently there for support for Blaine and shit. Sebastian did not know how to feel about that.

"Hey," Blaine walked over towards them, looking back and forth between them. "What are we talking about?"

"Sebastian's lesion," Kurt gestured towards Sebastian's face. Yeah. Way to go, Hummel. Sebastian rolled his eyes and Blaine's eyes widened as he moved closer to inspect it.

"What's the diagnosis, doc Blaine? Am I going to live?" Sebastian joked.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "You're not funny, you know." He sighed, moving towards Sebastian just a little closer to look at the lesion. "How did you get hurt? How could you be so calm about it? It looks painful."

"I won't lie. It's an annoying, painful little bitch. Kind of reminds me of Hummel," he didn't notice how unimpressed Kurt was with that comparison. "But it's fine. I'm not writing the exam with my face so whatevs, Bee. I'll go home and rest. Just for you."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Sebastian," he sighed deeply and dramatically. "It amazes me sometimes how little you think people care about you."

Sebastian was thinking about that one – Blaine was right. He was absolutely right. Sebastian did know he was an ungrateful little bitch. People around him took care of him and shit, but he was just stupid enough to push them away.

Blaine looked over at Sebastian. "After our exam, Kurt and I are thinking of getting some coffee. Do you want to come with?"

Sebastian snorted. "Are my lesions making you feel sorry for me?"

"Sebastian, your whole existence makes me feel sorry for you," Blaine smiled at him in that coy way that made Sebastian's heart race.

"You're becoming more and more like K, aren't you?" Sebastian said.

Blaine flushed, realising that Sebastian was right. The comment he'd made was most definitely something that Kurt would've made himself. He smiled sheepishly at him. "Maybe. And if I am, then what of it?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Not sure. Might still chase after you because you still have that pretty little ass of yours."

"Good luck on your exams," Kurt suddenly said, cutting them both off. "The both of you."

Sebastian was quick to enter the examination hall with Blaine. Sebastian always sat in the front of exams, and Blaine seemed to like being in a corner in the back. He didn't mind that.

Sebastian's heart was racing. He felt like he was about to puke, like he wasn't ready for this exam and he'd never be ready for this exam. The first exam he was to have was History, the first subject he'd completed. His mind was raking up memories of how his notes looked like, neat and pristine as they sat on his desk.

Then he devoured the examination paper, feeling himself go chalkier. It was not easy. At first, his anxiety was so bad he couldn't read the questions but as he realised he knew what the questions were asking him for, he calmed down enough to actually spew out all of the information he knew.

He was done quickly and went over his paper five times before he had to hand it in. He was feeling nauseous, not sure how he did and that scared him more than anything.

After they were done, Sebastian had gone off with Kurt and Blaine but he felt an eerie sadness fill him.

Kurt had gotten him a coffee, and paid for it. Sebastian hadn't even thought of the possibility of getting coffee. Blaine was sipping the same concoction. Apparently, it was a holiday-based drink. Sebastian seemed to forget it was nearing Christmas all the time.

It didn't feel like it at all. He'd not been out of the house for so long that he felt shocked when he saw how excited everyone outside was. Hummel was wearing holiday colours. It was dawning in on him that Christmas was just a week away.

He didn't buy gifts. He didn't even think of a possibility of buying gifts. His house was empty, devoid of decorations and holiday treats anyway. This morning, his Mother mentioned something about shopping but he'd forgone it. Fuck. He hated this.

"What are you doing for the holidays?" it was like Hummel could read how much tension Sebastian had from the holiday shit that he had to focus on soon after exams.

Sebastian shrugged. "Don't know. Holiday shit I guess."

Kurt sighed. "Please don't tell me you're a Grinch."

"What the fuck is a Grinch?" Sebastian asked before realising what Kurt was asking. He flushed. "Nah. I just…" he was fumbling with his drink. It was annoying to sip anything with a straw at the moment and he was just taking incredibly small sips as his attempt on not to focus how uncomfortable it was for him to have a huge lesion near his mouth.

"Have you shopped for gifts?" Kurt suddenly asked.

"Of fucking course you'd ask that," Sebastian shook his head. "I'll order shit. That's easier than spending days in the bloody shops. I can't stand people."

"I see the holidays enhance your _charming_ personality," Kurt explained, rolling his eyes.

Sebastian went back to slowly sipping his cup. He watched Blaine and Kurt stare at him, his eyes mostly locked on Kurt's.

Kurt was frowning. "You still never call me. I'm supposing you _still_ have your panic attacks but you don't call me."

Sebastian's heart throbbed. Fuck it. He couldn't call Hummel at four am and tell him to hold him because he was afraid of failing in life and that he was close to throwing himself off a cliff. Once of accidentally telling him that he wanted to off himself was enough.

Kurt was prying into it. "Did you get help?"

"Yeah. I have some sort of medication shit," Sebastian explained, which wasn't exceedingly untrue. They thought he was bloody depressed and needed pills. Huh. Funny. He was not depressed. He just looked at Kurt for some time, whom was starting to look at him as if he was radioactive.

"Huh, okay," Kurt nodded his head. He didn't look like he believed him. Maybe Hummel knew Sebastian better than he thought or something.

Blaine was silent but looking over at Sebastian. "You never talked to me about any panic attacks."

"They're not a problem," Sebastian suddenly said, shrugging. Fuck. It hurt like fuck to shrug. It hurt like fuck to shrug. "I swear, Bee."

"You're a really crappy liar, Bas," Blaine suddenly stated, rolling his eyes. "How can you tell me that your panic attacks aren't a problem? How come Kurt knows about them but I don't?" The last question was laced with a tone of betrayal. Blaine was not happy.

Sebastian just stared at Blaine for some time. "It wasn't my intention for Hummel to find out. He just did. It just happened. I don't know what went on, okay?"

Blaine slowly nodded his head, but he still looked dejected. "Are they bad?"

"Horrendous," Kurt spoke for the first time in a while, eyes on Sebastian. "I don't know how you could act like it's not a problem when it most definitely is."

Sebastian shrugged, still acting like nothing was wrong with him. He didn't know how to get too close to people, and when he did, they sort of disappeared on him. He had an idea as to why. There was the fact that he was an asshole, an unlovable asshole. Yup. That summed up everything.

"How was the exam?" Kurt suddenly asked, making Sebastian feel like puking.

"It was whatever," Sebastian rolled his eyes, the last thing he wanted anyone to know how deeply he suddenly cared for his studies, how much he'd been studying and how much his Mother was worried about his sudden obsession with studying all the bloody time.

Kurt looked at Sebastian for some time, shaking his head. "You honestly confuse me sometimes, Smythe."

"Whatever," Sebastian rolled his eyes, sighing. "Are we done yet, Hummel?"

"Why do you always do this?" Kurt suddenly asked, shaking his head. "Why do you say snide remarks in hopes that it will distract me from the fact that there is something obviously wrong with you even if you do not care to admit it? Why do you try to so desperately hide yourself?"

Sebastian didn't know how to answer that question. He just rolled his eyes. "I'm not _hiding_ myself, Hummel."

"I find that hard to believe," Kurt expressed. "You do hide some part of yourself at least, is that correct?"

Sebastian nodded his head. "Parts, Hummel. Parts that I'd rather not you or anyone else, see? Happy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kurt nodded his head. "Yes, I am happy. At least you've admitted it this time around. I was starting to get worried you'd be so stuck in your web of denial that it'll end up consuming you."

Sebastian snorted. His 'web of denial' had definitely consumed him. Kurt would laugh if he figured out that a day ago, Sebastian was just like him in all ways. One of those gay boys that looked gay and acted gay. He'd shed that skin with his denial to the point where he became someone else, and he didn't know how to restore himself back. All he knew was that he was what he was right now, and he didn't know how to tell people what was bothering him or what was in his head.

Healthy? Nope.

But it was what it was, like he'd say a thousand times again and again. He knew that this was going to end up tragically wrong and he'd have nobody to blame but himself for not telling anyone that there was something about him that had changed ever since he'd gotten confronted about the alcohol and the tape. He'd not drunken since, not hurt anyone since—hell, he rescued Hummel from being a bunch of jocks' punching bag.

And he didn't know why. No clue. Maybe he just wanted to be good before he was dead. He had no clue.

"What are you thinking about?" Kurt suddenly called out. "Why are you zoning out on this conversation?"

Sebastian snorted. "Hummel, you're worse than my Mother." Ha. Yeah right. Nothing was worse than his Mother as far as Sebastian was concerned. He just pursed his lips together.

Kurt shook his head. "Are we not going to have anymore dinner dates?"

"Course not," Sebastian snorted. "After how shitty the last one was?"

Kurt looked like he was thinking, but he just shook his head.

"Besides, shouldn't you two be making out or whatever? Go on dates. Whatever. Stop annoying me," Sebastian demanded, rolling his eyes. For a couple, Hummel sure seemed like he didn't go on dates with Blaine at all.

Kurt took a deep breath. "About that," he shook his head. "The real reason I've been pulling you around for dinner is to distract me from my loneliness. Blaine and I have broken up a bit ago, just…happened I suppose. Spontaneously."

Blaine just offered Kurt a smile at that, but nodded his head.

Sebastian's smirk suddenly appeared. "Oh, Bee, does this mean that I can go out with you?" he raised an eyebrow.

Blaine's eyes were hard. "No," and he realised he probably had no chance. Fuck. Why did Blaine have to be so hot and demanding? Why was he not Hummel? He smiled. "Maybe I'll consider it if you talk to me about these panic attacks."

"Yeah, no," Sebastian offered him a smile. Blaine looked irritated, and Kurt just gave him the 'well, you tried' look.

Sebastian came back home to a house that was decorated in stupid shit. Maybe he was a Grinch. Somehow, the concept of the holidays was making him want to scream. Fuck. All he remembered were from the last ones was a lot of booze. Right now, he was pretty fucking sober, and he could stare at himself in the mirror and realise how much he'd changed.

He was more and more pathetic every single year. He loathed himself. He absolutely loathed himself.

He grabbed a few ornaments and threw them around the wall, and his Mother was angry at him. They were yelling for a while, and Sebastian ended up crying and leaving to go to his bedroom where he shut the door.

"Sebastian! Let me in!" she said just a few moments after he'd locked the door. "Talk to me, sweetie."

"Fuck off," Sebastian spat out. "Leave me alone."

As the days had been dragging on, Sebastian had become more volatile in ways that they did not expect. He'd lost a lot of his interest in shit he wanted to do. He didn't want to watch American Horror Story with his Father. He didn't want to make gingerbread houses with his Mother. He didn't want to watch her cook shit and taste everything. He didn't purposely buy a size of pants bigger than usual because he seemingly had the ability to gain eight pounds every Christmas holiday. He didn't sit in front of the television with leftover frosting, biscuits and tuna sandwiches, eating until he passed out into a food coma and his Mother would be laughing when she found him like that in the morning.

He didn't care. His Father was sober for the first time in a long time and he was all fucking alone. He didn't want anyone to talk to him.

He had a lot of shit to study too. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck.

He just barely got through with his last few exams. He'd gone to get coffee with Kurt and Blaine, this time listening to them chatter about useless crap and making snide comments. At the end, either Hummel or Blaine would start sporting an angry facial expression. They'd yell and whatever at him and he'd leave to go home, where he'd feel angry at the holidays and stew in his own room.

His last exam was on a Monday morning. He finished it off, and then he went to coffee with Kurt and Blaine. He thought it would be like any other time.

Kurt had pulled out a white box from his bag, and offered it to Sebastian. "Here."

"What the fuck is that?" Sebastian tried to suppress the fact that he felt a lot better than he had in a horrifically long time. He'd opened the box, and cringed. "Books. I'm allergic to books. What the fuck is this?"

"Some people say thank you," Kurt announced. "Blaine and I bought it. We found it on sale and thought it suited you. After all, it is Christmas and whilst you are an apparent Grinch as far as I'm concerned, we still wanted to give you something. It's a journal, not a book. I didn't think you'd read anything we got you after all."

Sebastian snorted. That was true enough. He stared at the cover, feeling his stomach bubble with anxiety. He didn't know what to do with a journal other than write how much he fucking hated himself. And he was not a Grinch. It was just the first Christmas where his mood was totaled.

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Hummel. For Christmas, I give you air."

"How generous," Kurt rolled his eyes. He did look a bit disappointed, like he really was expecting something from Sebastian. Sebastian wanted to laugh. How could Hummel expect anything but snide remarks and on the spot comments? "Have a good winter break. We'll see you in January."

"Whatever." Sebastian maintained his cool. "Try not to eat yourself to death during Christmas."

"That would be a difficult feat," Blaine responded, only for Kurt to nudge him. They shared one of those looks, that 'I know exactly what you're talking about' look. They seemed _so_ fucking comfortable with each other and Sebastian didn't know why in fuck's name they'd break it off.

Sebastian went home, feeling empty now that he had nothing to do. Apparently, the anxiety of having to do something kept him busy. The realisation that his life was vacant without work…

Yeah. He sat around, not really doing much. He walked some movies and caught up on TV shows and shit, but he really wasn't that interested as before. He was panicking every night about grades, repeating his Father's words in his head. It didn't fucking matter.

He tried to push himself to do some work before college started. Yeah. Didn't happen.

During the winter break, his parents were just convinced that Sebastian was never going to get better. They made him go to therapy and asked him awkward questions about how it went and crap like that. They offered him things he used to like. On desperation, his Father asked him if he wanted some liquor. Jean had been concise with his alcohol consumption. Sebastian said he'd rather die choking on a dick than have another sip of that fucking alcohol.

He hated how people just associated him with it now, like he was addicted and couldn't live without it. Fuck them. He was in control of his body, not alcohol. And not his genetic fuck of a disease. And not his 'depression' either.

Christmas Eve dinner was depressing. He just stared at the plate in front of him most of the time. He felt sick with the smell of it. He didn't know why. It was just the smell was making him fucking nauseous. The whole thing was making him sick.

"More potatoes, Sebastian?" Jean had asked, shoving the plateful of roast potatoes towards him.

Sebastian took a few and loaded him on his plate. He just speared them with his fork, like it was a game. "I thought potatoes were the devil of all carbs or something like that."

"But you like potatoes," Lena insisted. "Don't you?"

Sebastian shut his eyes for a while. "I don't like anything."

"That is your disease talking," Lena explained, just nodding her head firmly towards him. "How are the lesions healing, sweetie? Are you in any pain?"

He was always in fucking pain. He just shook his head. He looked down at his feet. "I'm fine. I'm not in any pain or whatever. I'm just fine."

Lena looked incredulous when Sebastian had talked in that tone, that tone that told her that everything was _not_ fine and he really was in pain but he wouldn't tell her that. Nope. Never. Fuck.

"You do realise the process of eating involves you actually putting said potatoes into your mouth now, don't you?" Jean raised an eyebrow as he stared at Sebastian for some time. Sebastian looked down at his plate. Big fucking mistake. He felt sick.

"Nope," Sebastian just offered one of his 'oh, I know everything' smiles, as he rolled his eyes. He was hungry, but the sight of the food was making him close to upchucking. "I feel sick."

He waited until his parents were done, and then his Mother brought out loads of desserts – reindeer decorated cake, candy cane cupcakes and calorie dense pudding jars, with jars decorated with Christmas related crap.

He leaned forward and pulled his small empty dessert plate and his Mother actually sliced him cake, the one with four corners of icing just like he liked.

"I thought you were sick," Jean looked like he was challenging how sick Sebastian actually was.

"Yeah, well, it's cake," he tried to defend himself. He picked up his fork, actually excited for a bite of his Mother's Christmas cake. It always tasted good. He tried to lift the fork, but immediately dropped it. Well, fuck. His arms were hurting him like a bitch!

He hissed, shutting his eyes as tightly as possible.

"Sebastian? Darling?" Lena called out in worry when she heard his hissing. "What's wrong?"

"My arms," he flatly called out. They were hurting him all day when he'd been eating and raising it up above around five inches or so from his stomach, but right now, the pain was absolutely unbearable. "I can't—it hurts too bad to raise it up." He was flushing.

Lena frowned and moved towards him, sitting on a chair just beside his. She took a forkful of the cake and offered it to him.

He shook his head. He was embarrassed and stood up from his chair. He just headed up upstairs afterwards and tried slept, he tried to move his arms but fuck! So much pain. He wanted to cry.

He did actually just end up crying late at night and in the morning, his Mother came around with gifts and shit, looking happy about it. She realised there was no way he was getting out of bed, but tried to make him happy by opening up her gifts for him.

She got him so much fucking shit that he didn't really deserve but then she realised he didn't feel any better.

She frowned and tried to feel for his forehead. He was real fucking warm to her touch apparently or some shit like that, so she wouldn't leave him alone for the rest of the day because he was 'sick' or whatever.

Hummel and Blaine both messaged him. He ignored them.

He went to the mirror and stared at himself for some time. He looked like shit. He showered about three times a week, if that because he couldn't stand how painful it was to take off his shirt. His hair was always infused with a build-up of grease and oil or whatever. He had a bunch of zits on his shoulders alongside his lesions.

Past while he wouldn't drink or eat shit, because he couldn't bring it up to his mouth and he yelled at his Mother when she tried to do it for him. His Father was telling him he was being overdramatic. There was no fucking way he was in so much pain that he couldn't bring a bottle or a fork or something towards his own fucking mouth.

He had to make a bunch of new holes in his belt with his car keys (that was the only use his car keys had at that time) the past month because of his lacking food and probable dehydration.

He'd lost track of every fucking thing. He felt so empty and crap. He just wanted it to be over with. He wanted to go back to school and panic half the time. He wanted to off himself. He didn't know what in fuck's name he wanted.

His Mother was starting to think he was pulling on some sort of fucking disappearing act. She'd been sitting with him twenty-four seven and rubbing his shoulders and his hair. Telling him that if he wanted her to help take off his shirt so he could shower, she'd do it. Fuck. No.

That morning, his Mother made him step on her scale when she realised his ribcage was sticking out even worse than usual and she didn't like it. He made a joke about him turning into the skeleton she once painted for her painting and she asked him seven times if he was purposely doing this and if she needed another doctor's appointment for him.

He looked absolutely disgusting. His self-esteem was shot. He didn't want anyone looking at his figure. He didn't want anyone to touch his bag where his spine met hands. He wanted to shove a bucket of ice-cream down his throat when he saw just how bad he looked like sans clothes. He hated it. He absolutely hated it. And he hated holding books, and feeling uncomfortable because his bony chest was rubbing against it. He hated not being able to sit on specific chairs, or on any soft surface 'cause of his spine. At least he had a good looking ass. Maybe. Fuck. He looked ugly.

Other than wanting to add fat to his upper body and his pigeon legs and ugly knees, he wanted to do so for his face as well. He hated his face. He hated everything about what he looked like. What he used to love before about himself, he hated now. Freakazoid of nature. Fuck him. Fuck him.

If anyone commented about his body now, he probably would just start crying and making a fool out of himself. Fuck it. He was trying to name one good thing about him for three hours and came up with his eyes. He hated everything else and just spent his time stewing in his hate.

Just two days before going back to school, his lesions – most of them had healed. His Mother was excited about it, just before he figured he could not move his arms. At all. Not from out of position. They were stuck in one plane. They did not rotate at all. He could move nothing.

He had thought that he'd be able to move his arm up to his mouth or whatever but he couldn't.

It had completely ossified. He couldn't shrug. He couldn't pull his hands over his head. He couldn't shift his arms in his bed. He couldn't eat. He couldn't drink. He couldn't put his hand over his mouth in shock. He couldn't reach for anything that was on the high shelf, and it wasn't because he was like three feet or whatever.

He could probably hold his shit, but he couldn't draw or write probably now. It would probably be difficult and awkward at least. Definitely awkward. Yuck.

His Father stopped making comments about Sebastian just over exaggerating his pain. Good, because if Sebastian heard it again, he'd bring a gun to his head and fucking shoot himself.

Wait. He couldn't bring a gun to his head and shoot himself _because he couldn't bring a gun to his head_.

And worst of all: he was disabled that way when he thought about it. _He was fucking disabled_. That thought scared him more than anything else in the world could.

That morning, his Mother came with breakfast in her hands, and just smiled when she saw him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Want to die," he wasn't even kidding. His face was solemn, as his Mother came towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes were filling up with tears again.

"No, honey," she frowned, rubbing his shoulder. "You're just still shocked after yesterday. It was not a good day for you yesterday, was it?"

She just placed her plate on the bed, and stared at him. "Sebastian, love, your Father and I have been exceedingly worried about you. You always look so tired and pale, and you've changed so much. You've lost so much weight in the past few months, and right now, you just look like half of a person. It's so painful to look at you…it's just…you look so gaunt and disturbed and you don't look like yourself at all."

Sebastian snorted. "Thanks." He muttered. He wanted to tell her to get out but he was starved. It was the kind of 'I'm so fucking hungry and I can't ignore it' feeling that made him nod his head.

She was cutting the sandwich she'd made him into pieces and offered him one of them.

He leaned forward and took a mouthful of the sandwich. Peanut butter and Nutella. He spat it out almost immediately. "I want meat, I want sausage. I want eggs or whatever. I don't want fucking peanut butter and Nutella in the morning," Sebastian rolled his eyes, and shook his head.

Lena sighed. "Okay. This is my attempt at fattening you up."

Sebastian just shot her a look. "So sad," he lightly said. "Make me fat with bacon."

He watched his Mother leave and looked out of the window. He had only a few days until school, and he was not looking forward to his stupid attempts at obviously hiding how weak and fragile he was or whatever.

Well, shit.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	10. From Pain and Truth

Chapter Ten

_From Pain and Truth_

* * *

Sebastian woke up that morning and realised it was going to be a shit day already.

Lena had to help him out of his pajamas and he was not in the mood. When she took off his shirt, he looked at his frame and wanted to smash something into the mirror.

He moved to look at himself. Some of his newly ossified bones were poking out of places. He had a shit tonne of them on his shoulders, and his back. He literally had a deformed skeleton and he was skinny enough that he was able to look at it through his naked eyes.

He was angry. More than just angry – he wanted to scream and throw shit and break bottles and just…

"Look at this," he spat out, his eyes were filling with so much self-hatred. "Fucking deformed skeleton. In all the literal senses. Fuck this. Fuck everything."

"Shhh," she moved to him and pulled him close to her. "It's okay. You just need to gain a little bit of weight and then you won't see it, okay? You won't see it."

"But it's there, isn't it?" that was the bit that was making him angry. "And it's just going to get worse over time. I'll look like those people in the pictures that the doctors showed you. Fucking ugly. I am fucking ugly."

Somehow, admitting to his _Mother_ for Christ's sake was making him teary-eyed. He was just about to wipe away his tears when he realised he couldn't bring his hand to his face. Yeah. Fun stuff.

Lena stood on her toes to wipe away his tears for him. "Come on. Let me give you your lunch box and Jean wants to drop you off to school."

Sebastian just burst out laughing. "Mother, you're funny if you think I'm going to let someone from school feed me. Fuck it. I won't even let you feed me."

He still wasn't used to it. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the idea that he needed someone to fucking feed him else he'd probably just wither away or whatever.

Lena frowned. "Come downstairs then and eat and drink something, Sebastian. You can't keep on doing this."

Sebastian snorted. He couldn't bend his back, so it wasn't just his arms that were ossified. Fun stuff. Fun, fun stuff. He just shook his head. "We don't have time so whatever. I'm just going to go to school."

It wasn't time that was an issue. He was humiliated more than ever about the fact that his Mom had to feed him and make him drink shit. He physically could not and this was pissing him off more and more.

He went to school. His classes were tough, most of them and then was Spanish and he rolled his eyes. After Spanish, he was cornered by Blaine whom insisted on walking Sebastian to lunch with him.

Lunch was shit. They were all gawking at him like he was radioactive.

"Where's Hummel?" Sebastian suddenly decided to break into the atmosphere.

Just as Blaine was about to answer, Kurt walked with the black girl – Mercedes Jones, Sebastian remembered – and they seemed to be talking about something. They stopped talking when Kurt had caught sight of Sebastian and raised an eyebrow.

"Is it just me or are you starting to look oddly like the skeleton in a medical school's anatomy lab?" Kurt raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"That's not nice, Hummel," Sebastian suddenly stated. "God knows. You know instead of getting anorexic or whatever, I might just decide I'm hurt by your statement, go home and eat like twenty burgers in one sitting and make myself eat until I puke and until I'm three hundred pounds and can't breathe just because of you."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You couldn't survive dinner with my parents, Sebastian. That tells me quite a bit about how much you're really able to stomach before cradling in apparent pain."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Hummel. You're worried about me because I lost weight?"

"No, I am worried about you because you've not been answering any of our calls, are not able to quip back with proper comebacks to me, have apparently lost a lot of weight in a short span of time, look beyond tired and also, seem to have no lunch despite having have lost a lot of weight in a short span of time."

Kurt sat down beside Sebastian and placed a hand on his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow immediately afterwards. "It's not the fact that whatever sect of your body I was holding on feels like pure bone, but it doesn't feel…normal."

"Get your hands off me, Hummel," Sebastian was feeling oddly violated. "This is my fucking personal space. You don't touch me."

Kurt was quick to take out his hand when he read the expression on Sebastian's face. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

"Like you give a shit about making me feel uncomfortable," Sebastian was quick to quip, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry, Hummel. Like I give a shit about how uncomfortable you make me feel. If I did…wow," he shook his head.

Kurt sighed. "What happened during the break, Sebastian? In all honesty? Was there something bothering—"

The bell rang and Sebastian just immediately stood up to leave. He did not want to be bothered with Hummel's shit at all.

"Got a class," and Sebastian wandered to a class he couldn't write shit in and just stared at the wall.

He didn't even want to try anymore. He was useless and fucking…_disabled_. He just felt tears fill his eyes but he felt a lot better afterwards. He got out of class, intending on going home.

His Father had insisted on driving him. Calling him was useless. He'd texted him and Sebastian tried to type with one hand. He could only really read texts when he put it on his lap, and tried to type on his lap. It was terrible for him to do.

He was fucking disabled. The statement ran into his head one thousand times today. He was _disabled_.

He was one of those kids they put around schools and talked about how unfortunate they were, about how much she they couldn't do, about how they needed help. He was one of those. He wanted to fucking cry. He was not a full person. That was what translated to that in his head and he couldn't fucking do anything about it either!

Just as his Father had pulled up, Kurt had seemed to come by and his heart stopped when he saw Mr Jean Smythe waiting for Sebastian.

Jean waited for Kurt to ask Sebastian whatever it was he wanted to ask him, but Kurt just shook his head.

"No, it's not…I wanted to catch Sebastian to offer him to some coffee," Kurt grinned at Jean quite wildly. He looked nervous. "I didn't…I didn't think that you might be picking him up today or the like."

Jean stared at Kurt, as if waiting for him to say more.

Kurt just took a plunge then. "Mr Smythe, what is wrong with Sebastian? He just looks so…"

Jean opened up the door and Sebastian slithered in. Kurt was flushing adamantly. "Get in the back. I'll take you to lunch. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh no, not at all. I'll text my Father."

Sebastian hated his Father for inviting Hummel back home with him but he couldn't do anything about it. Jean looked over at Sebastian and he could read his Father's look very well – _I'm sorry, buddy but you need this_. The kind of look that he gave Sebastian when he used to feed him disgusting medicine that made Sebastian feel a lot better.

They went back to Sebastian's house after what felt like a shitty long car ride.

When his Mother saw him, she wrapped her arms around him and just hugged him as tightly as she could. She turned to Kurt and squeezed the life out of him as well.

Sebastian was absolutely dreading lunch with Hummel.

His Mother had ordered him beef chow mein and had made herself some broccoli and brown rice crap. She'd chopped more vegetables in his chow mein than there were originally, like she did all the time because she was convinced he didn't get no nutrients in that bod of his.

She'd also got him Ensure. Fuck, that weight gain supplementation stuff.

It sort of scared him a little to think that his Mother got him an Ensure because she thought he was actually thin enough to need it. Fuck.

His Mother shifted from her lunch and sat beside him.

No. No. No. No. Fuck. He felt like a deer caught in headlights. He was going to crash and burn and Hummel was going to know about his _thing_. He hated that. He just looked over at Hummel, feeling distraught.

Kurt didn't look like he understood what was going on.

His Mother thankfully got up and went to the counter. "Do you want Chinese, Kurt? I also have some leftover brown rice and broccoli florets with salmon from yesterday if you'd like."

"I'd like that," Kurt insisted, nodding his head. "What kind of salmon?"

"I believe it's Scottish," she responded. Sebastian didn't know why it mattered. She went to throw leftovers from a container into a plate and then heat it up in a microwave. Sebastian felt hesitant. His Mother was going to feed him and Hummel was going to ask questions. "I like you, Kurt. I like you visiting, but can I ask why?" Lena's voice had no contempt, just inquiry.

Kurt nodded his head. "Yes, Sebastian was worrying me. He…has progressively changed since last time he'd been at school with us."

Jean had walked into the kitchen, and Sebastian almost forgot his Father actually lived with them. He sat down just beside Sebastian, and Lena had offered him a bag filled with more Chinese.

Sebastian couldn't really do much. He tried to look over his phone. He was playing a bunch of games, ones that didn't require much time considering he had such restricted movement. He was playing one of those Candy Crush whatever shit on his phone just to pass time.

He'd looked up to stare at Kurt, whom was just smiling very weakly at him.

"Okay!" his Mother had returned with plates for Kurt, and one for his Father to dump his rice and vegetables and meat whatever. Lena sat by beside Sebastian and opened up his Ensure for him. "It's vanilla, because you said chocolate shakes never do taste like chocolate."

Sebastian slowly nodded his head. "Yeah. I guess. Whatever." His eyes hadn't left Kurt's face in some time.

Kurt was already toying with the tiny florets and putting a spoonful in his mouth every now and then. He'd already divided the salmon into smaller pieces.

"Here, I'll do it," Jean insisted, taking a fork from the table. Fuck. Sebastian was even more nervous. Not only did his Father never try to feed him, but Hummel was going to watch.

"Are you sure?" Lena didn't look happy.

Kurt looked confused, but Jean nodded his head.

"Can you lean down?" Jean suddenly asked, and Sebastian just shook his head, refusing to meet Kurt's eyes for that question. "So I just have to…huh."

Jean had twirled a bunch of noodles around the fork, which Sebastian never did, and then pulled it up to the teen's mouth. Sebastian opened his mouth and allowed Jean to feed him.

Sebastian ate a few mouthfuls, but that was when the humiliation sunk in and he turned his head away at another one.

"Stop it," Jean's voice was filled with annoyance. "Look at me, boy. For fuck's sake, Sebastian, you cannot keep doing this every time you eat else you'd die of malnutrition before you die of—"

Sebastian finally took his bite, startling Jean slightly. He would not have his Father confess this to Hummel. He would not.

Kurt seemed to get enough to be able to ask a question. "I'm sorry if this is rude, but can Sebastian not eat by himself?"

Lena frowned. "Did Sebastian not tell you?" she looked shocked. "_Sebastian_." She gave him a pointed look.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. He does this all the time. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he just…he thinks that it's humiliating or degrading of his personality or something along those lines. I don't know. It scares me to see him like this, honestly."

Kurt slowly but surely nodded his head. He was waiting for more.

"When Sebastian was young, we noticed he had lesions that just kept on popping up. We got really worried and thought it was something serious, so we took Sebastian to the doctors. The doctors took one look at him and they were absolutely convinced Sebastian had cancer." Kurt had looked pale after the C word. "So they did a few surgeries on him, poor boy. He wouldn't tell anyone, not even himself, but he was absolutely petrified and I can tell. He's my son, of course I can tell. The growth just got so much worse and we took him for a few doctors. For five or six years, we've just been taking Sebastian to different doctors, different countries. It was absolute hell for a small child to grow up not knowing what was wrong with him."

Kurt nodded his head in agreement but then pursed his lips. He looked at Sebastian as if he was unfortunate or whatever. Sebastian hated that look.

Sebastian just rolled his eyes, but didn't deny any of his Mother's statements.

Lena continued on with the story. He was humiliated anyway, and he wanted to die in a hole but whatever. "We found a doctor that proposed an idea that Sebastian may have a very, very rare genetic disease. A few x-rays and another few doctors' opinions, they did agree. They'd never seen a case besides Sebastian. Sebastian has an impossibly rare disease, name isn't important but it's shortened to FOP. When he gets hurt, physically so, he'd end up developing lesions and after a few months, those lesions turn into bone. Basically, he is developing a skeleton on top of his own skeleton. The new skeleton isn't normal though. It's a bit more…"

"…deformed," Sebastian snorted, laughing to himself.

Lena corrected him, "…it's _different_. Right now, a lot of his upper body is ossified and he can't move his arms, so he can't feed himself so we have to do it. It's just that he has this idea that…I don't know. He doesn't like people feeding him."

Sebastian snorted again. Of course he didn't like it! He wanted to be able to feed himself and the fact that he couldn't was making his body fill with rage.

Lena looked over at Kurt, whom seemed completely and utterly shocked.

She grabbed her plate and pulled it up to herself. "I think it's best you two talk it out. It seems like there's a lot of tension in this room. Come on, Jean. We'll go open up that horrendous soap opera you like to watch."

"It's not horrendous," the man insisted as he stood up, grabbing his plate and culinary.

They both left the kitchen. Sebastian found it strange but then again, it wasn't like he was normal. Kurt had shifted from his position and seemed to sit down close to him. He stared at Sebastian for a few moments before he picked up the fork and twirled noodles around it and offering it to Sebastian.

Sebastian looked shocked for the first few moments before opening his mouth and allowing Kurt to feed him.

Kurt was just about to get more noodles for Sebastian before he felt tears rise up in his eyes. "Why do you do this?" the shorter male suddenly called out. "Why? Why do you hide things like that from people? Do you think that they won't respect you the same way or…what is it that is just so horrible and humiliating that you just have to keep to yourself?"

Sebastian just looked over at Kurt, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't know where to begin to explain it. "It's just how I am, Hummel, it's how I am. I don't like people thinking I'm weak, and there's nothing strong about having to be fed by my Mother. It's humiliating and degrading and I just…"

Sebastian looked down at the table. "Fuck it, I hate thinking that I am disabled, Hummel. I am disabled because I cannot feed my own fucking self. Can't lift my arms at all. Can't bend my knees or my back. I am just going to become a human statute and then, I won't be able to do anything. Forget school. Forget everything. I don't have no fucking future."

Sebastian was laughing then. "You know what my doctor told me? That at one point, I'm going to have to pick whether I want to be a standing statue or one that sits down or whatever when I seriously hurt myself enough that I won't be able to move my legs. I'll probably just stay in bed so often that the best option would be to stay there because my fucking pride is so bad that I wouldn't want to stay on a wheelchair or whatever because then that means I can leave the house. If I can leave the house and have people stare at me, then fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it."

He shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks at an abnormal rate. Kurt was crying too, crying just as hard as he was.

"You're so stupid and delusional," Kurt suddenly spat out, his voice unsteady. "I don't care about your pride. I don't care about how stupid you are about how you treat yourself. Sebastian, you must understand that people don't matter. People do not matter at all. Friends matter. Family matters. People that will help you matter. Nobody else does, okay?"

Kurt was rubbing Sebastian's shoulder. "I'm your friend, okay? I am your friend. You can call me whenever you want."

"I can't," Sebastian spat out, his voice filled with fury.

"Of course you can," Kurt insisted through his haze of tears.

"No, I mean I can't bring the phone to my ear anymore, dumbass." Sebastian snorted, shaking his head and laughing. "I'd have to text you."

Kurt suddenly realised what Sebastian had meant and was laughing himself even though it wasn't really that funny. His tears were running down harder than usual, but he just stared at him for some time. "Okay. I'm going to feed you the rest of lunch, even though it's probably time for dinner in an hour or so."

Sebastian wanted to shrug but then he realised he couldn't. Fuck. "Okay."

Sebastian didn't retaliate when Kurt had fed him the rest of his Chinese and also, most of his Ensure. It was difficult and Sebastian couldn't imagine why people weren't getting cross with him for not being able to eat himself. He'd get pissed if he had to feed someone and wait for them to finish off.

Hummel had texted someone and just turned to him. "I'm just texting my Father. I'm staying over for the night for a bit. I'll drive you to school if you'd let me use your car keys."

Sebastian was shocked. "You don't…you don't have to do that, Hummel."

"I know," Kurt explained, rubbing his eyes. His tearstained face was still…well, tearstained. "I'm doing this because I want not, not because I hate you. The concept may be foreign to you, but there are some people that are willing to help you and will spend the night with you if you ask them. There are people that will take you out to dinner just because you asked them. And fortunately for you, I am one of those people."

Sebastian didn't respond to any of that.

Kurt followed him upstairs into Sebastian's room and they didn't do much for the first five minutes. Kurt looked over at Sebastian. "If I can," he called out, "how would you feel about me painting it?" Kurt grinned over at Sebastian.

Sebastian shook his head. "Not happy." He honestly said.

"Great. We'll paint it during the weekend," Kurt said. Sebastian wondered how his room must be like to Hummel – his Plain Jane room with his Plain Jane things, and nothing that looked like it defined Sebastian or whatever.

Kurt walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "How does it feel like?"

"Oh no," Sebastian was deadpanned. "You're not going to fucking do one of those 'how does it feel like to be you' sort of thing, are you? And I'm going to somehow confess everything to you, about how shit my life is or whatever and we'll end up holding each other and crying."

Sebastian paused. "Wait, no, you'd be holding me and we'd be crying but I wouldn't be able to hold you. Yeah. That shit."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "So, how does it feel like?" he repeated his question, honestly curious. "I believe it is a Hell for you not to be able to move your arms."

"Or my back," Sebastian added on. "My back is always fucking straight. At least I know I won't get scoliosis or whatever."

Kurt was staring at him for some time, honestly looking at him like there was something there to look at. "It must be uncomfortable sleeping."

Suddenly, Kurt saw tears fill Sebastian's eyes. "You have no idea, Kurt."

Somehow, the sight of Sebastian crying made tears fill in Kurt's eyes too. He felt like he was mourning the loss of someone and he was, the illusion that everything was always fine—it was disappearing from Kurt's fingers. Nothing was fine. Nothing ever will be. Not when Sebastian was suffering like this.

Kurt had walked towards him and hugged him as tightly as possible. "Smythe, you made me cry so much already."

"Likewise," Sebastian snorted lightly.

Kurt just shook his head, staring at Sebastian's face. "You can get through this, you know."

"No," Sebastian shook his head, and looked up at Kurt. He felt like he was the most fucking honest than he'd been to anyone in ever. He hoped that Hummel appreciated this, because this weakness was making him feel small and unimportant. "I don't know."

Kurt didn't say anything to that. Good he fucking realised it just wasn't something Sebastian would say to anyone. Hell, he didn't even know why he said it.

He'd been rubbing his knee and looking back up at Kurt every few moments, feelings tear rush up to his eyes.

"It's not fucking fair, K. It's not fair," he whined, his throat hurting him. He shook his head, laughing. "Hummel, you finally know how pathetic I actually am, don't you?"

"Pathetic?" Kurt repeated, shaking his head. "Sebastian, you are far from pathetic. Just because you've established and stressed on the point that you have human emotion doesn't mean that you are pathetic."

Sebastian didn't feel that way, however. He just stared back at Kurt. He knew that the shorter male was right, but fuck it, he'd mutilate one of his arms before he'd admit that Hummel was right.

Fuck it. He was getting pathetic, and he was angry about it. He just shook his head and looked over at Kurt, feeling like he'd just lost all sense of his manhood. He needed to restore himself.

He couldn't have any friends. That just wasn't how Sebastian Smythe rolled. He needed to tick Hummel off.

"Let's go feed you some breakfast," Kurt insisted.

Sebastian nodded his head when an idea had struck him. He was trying not to smirk, which was evidence of him plotting something. He had to push Hummel so far in, before he had more 'friends'. Really. He was doing it for Kurt's sake as well. Hummel wouldn't want to be friends with him really. He was an asshole and he thought he knew everything when he didn't. He didn't know shit.

His life was a mess that Hummel would not want to be in. That was it. He was doing it for Hummel's own good. Let him suffer and rot. He didn't need or deserve any friends, you know? That was what was rattling on in his mind anyway. Now, to put his plan into action and make Hummel hate his guts and leave him before they got any closer in this "relationship". Yeah. Sounded like a plan.

* * *

_ xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	11. From Mayhem and Mistakes

**_warning for explicit suicidal thoughts, past drug abuse implications and future suicide attempt._**

_also, another warning - this is going to be a **very long story**. as in...this follows through straight to Kurt in NYADA and what's forth - simply because i thought it would be interesting for me to touch on the fact that Sebastian's disease will progress and how he handles things in future situations._

* * *

Chapter Eleven

_From Mayhem and Mistakes_

* * *

It was only when Kurt had made him breakfast that Sebastian had realised how he was going to put everything into plan. Yes, he was going to be so much of an asshole. He was going to take so much advantage of the fact that all Kurt wanted to do was help him, and he was in turn going to make Kurt hate his guts so fucking much that he'd leave him and never look back at him again.

No more of this crying shit. No more of anything. He was not going to let himself be weak and susceptible in front of anyone any longer, even when on the inside, he felt like he was pretty much just crumbling all the bloody time.

"Sebastian?" Kurt had noticed that he was in his own bloody thinking bubble. "What has all been going on in your head this time?"

"Nothing," Sebastian lied effortlessly, shaking his head. "Now, breakfast."

His eyes wandered off to the breakfast that Kurt made him – some smoothie thing that smelled like a strawberry or blueberry or whatever the hell the little blue ones were, and some wrap thing with some white stuff in it (Sebastian chuckled because whenever he thought of white stuff, he thought of semen) with green grassy shit and probably tomatoes and olives.

Ew. Hummel was making it so easy to sabotage him.

"I'm not putting that crap in me," Sebastian shook his head. "No fucking way. You can't pay me enough to eat that."

"It is exceptionally good for you," Kurt announced, as he looked back at the selection that he was so proud of. "That is a wrap filled with goat cheese, tomatoes, olives, and even some leftover potatoes I found in a container. Your Mother did tell me to help myself after all. Then, I've made a smoothie for you, green tea powder, cocoa, blueberries, flaxseed and a nice generous amount of milk."

"Ew," Sebastian felt like gagging. "Hummel, if you're trying to get me to eat more, you should start with something I actually like and nothing that tastes like bloody cardboard."

Kurt sighed deeply. "You didn't even give it a chance."

"I can't move my arms, Hummel, but I still have a good sense of smell and it smells like something I don't want to be in my digestive system," Sebastian expressed, only to look at the pantry. He tried to think of something that took a shitless long time to make, and came up with…nothing.

So, he thought of something easy and quick but something he could still annoy Hummel with.

"Make me toast with peanut butter on top," Sebastian suddenly called out.

"Fine," Kurt seemed to be patient enough, standing up to get bread from the pantry.

Sebastian decided to step it up a bit. "Not that ugly gross bread. The one in the freezer," he watched Kurt wander towards the freezer and then pale. Sebastian wanted to laugh. There were at least seven different types of bread in there. "Get the white one."

"They're all white," Kurt hissed, shaking his head. He pulled out one at random. "How is this?"

Sebastian shook his head, and Kurt reached in for another one. Sebastian shook his head again. After a while, they got to the one with the brown-stripped packet, and Sebastian liked that one enough to say yes.

Kurt wandered off towards the toaster to defrost it but then Sebastian interjected. "I don't like that one. Use the other one."

Kurt looked annoyed but didn't say anything. He'd used the other toaster, which looked old and mangy. Hell, it was old and mangy. Sebastian loved it anyway. He hated the new toaster. He was convinced it was a gift from Satan, shiny and new, and took too fucking long to defrost his fucking toast.

Kurt then pulled out the peanut butter jar. "So, this jar, right? Or is this another magical jar that I don't see lying around that you want me to spread your toast with?"

Sebastian shook his head. "Nah, that peanut butter is fine," he insisted, staring at it for a while. "Wash the plate and dry it before you put my toast on, okay?"

Kurt didn't look happy. "Fine," he said, taking a plate, washing it and then wiping it away. He placed the two pieces of toast on it straight afterwards and then found himself holding a butter knife.

He did a good few swipes of peanut butter on the toast.

"Gross, that's too much," Sebastian insisted. "Spread it properly, K. This is annoying."

"You're annoying," Kurt had spread the peanut butter more, making it as even as possible before he picked up another slice. He added on the same amount of peanut butter.

"Too much, K," Sebastian whined.

Kurt had pushed the plate towards him, and then looked at the watch. "We are going to be late, so eat up quick."

Sebastian laughed, smirking. "Good thing I'm not hungry for breakfast then." He stood up, purposely leaving the toast that he'd made Kurt do.

"You are an unbelievable human being," Kurt snarled. "Sit down and eat your toast, Sebastian."

"Make me," Sebastian shot back.

Kurt normally wouldn't make comments as he did in that moment, but he did. Sebastian was pushing on all the wrong buttons. "It'll certainly be easy, considering that thirty percent of your body seems to be ossified."

"_Asshole_!" Sebastian called out, his eyes blazing with fury. "You know how hard it is for me, Hummel? The fact that I can't do squat?"

"Firstly, no, I don't know, but secondly, I do know that it is hard for me to muster you in this condition and the fact that you are trying to get me to do everything for you is fine. The fact that you have a hundred rules about what goes where and where things should be is _not_." Kurt huffed, eyes darkening. "I am not your lackey, Sebastian. I am your friend."

"I know," he huffed. "And friends help, huh?"

"Help?" Kurt's eyes blazed. "Help, yes. Do everything for you? No, Sebastian. _No_."

Sebastian just frowned, and shook his head. "But I need someone to do shit for me. I can't move my arms, Hummel. That validates the fact that I'm a useless asshole."

"No," Kurt hissed, turning to face Sebastian. His eyes were dark. "You need help eating. I understand that. Do not start being fussy around what you want and push me to make things for you that you wouldn't even eat. By the way, you are eating that. Not because I spend so much time making it but because I believe that if you didn't eat it, you'd just about disappear from how thin and bony you've gotten."

Sebastian snorted, but then visibly frowned. "That's me with clothes on. If I'm naked, you'd be able to tell how fucking ugly I really am."

Kurt had noticed how horrifically angry he sounded, like something was niggling at him. He moved towards Sebastian, slipping a hand on his shoulder. "You're not ugly, Sebastian."

Sebastian found it funny. Ha. He knew that Hummel looked shocked that he'd had to comfort _the_ Sebastian Smythe about how shitty he looked. There was no way he looked attractive right now. Even if he did add on extra padding which he was in so desperate need of to look good, he also knew that in the end, the fact that he couldn't move his arms was not sexy.

The fact that he was disabled was not sexy. The fact that he couldn't do shit made him unattractive. Somehow, the thought of being unattractive really burned a whole in Sebastian's heart. He wasn't good at anything. He was a shit student. Though he really fucked tried a while ago (these past few week he'd not been doing any work at all), his Father was right.

Nobody wanted anyone with a drug record, with an alcohol problem, with any of that crap. Nobody wanted anyone that was disabled either.

And Sebastian was all of those things. He was useless. Hell, Hummel could do better than him and that prospect made him angry and also, _empty_.

"Fuck off," Sebastian's voice was cold as he responded, his eyes dark. "Leave me alone, Hummel. Don't sleep in my room again unless you want to fuck me." Which he wouldn't. Because he looked like shit.

"Why do you always do this?" Kurt huffed in anger. "Fine. I'll leave."

Kurt turned to leave, not looking back at Sebastian's face.

Sebastian had looked down at his clock. He was late for school. He texted his Father and said he wouldn't go. When his Father would come around, he'd yell at him for not going. Sebastian knew.

Sebastian walked to his room, and tried to study again. It was a lot harder than usual. He'd had to stand up to study now, because his hands could move but his arms couldn't. If he wanted to go through pages, he'd had to be on his feet.

After spending most of the day on his feet, he realised he could just sit on a chair on his knees and do it, so he did that. Whatever. He'd managed to catch up on most of their things pretty quickly because they'd not done much last week. He caught up on all his subjects.

His midterm grades would be out soon.

Sebastian felt annoyed. He was fucking brainwashed in thinking that his grades were more important than his life was. He hated this. He felt compelled to study. His Mother called him out for lunch and he ignored it. He'd found a way to lock the door.

He spent his day in his room. When dinner time came around, he found himself so hungry and thirsty that he just had to open the door and go downstairs.

When he'd gone downstairs, he realised his Mother wasn't around but his Father was.

Jean snorted. "Your Mother did mention you giving into your hunger at some point. Grand, because I was just about to eat without you I hope you've realised… sit down. I have something to discuss with you."

Sebastian did sit down and he felt uncomfortable. Jean got pepperoni pizza for them and Sebastian was glad he did come down. He was starved, and meat and cheese were technically all he wanted out of dinner. He saw that the bottle of Ensure he was supposed to drink was there. Gross.

Jean uncapped the bottle and picked up a slice. "Why didn't you go to school today?"

Sebastian took a mouthful of the slice. He knew not to argue with his Father. Jean would always win and he didn't feel like putting up a fight today. He was starved and he just wanted to go to sleep straight after dinner.

"What's the point of going to school if I can't do anything with my life?" Sebastian huffed.

"Stop living in your hole of self-pity," Jean spat out, his eyes cold. "That's the first thing. Second thing is that you never do try hard enough to know whether or not you are able to do anything with your life."

Sebastian wanted to yell and snap at his own Father. He felt like he was being challenged. He'd been studying all day in his room again. He just didn't want to face school and see people. He didn't think he could bear it.

"I try," Sebastian said in a calm voice.

"No, you don't," Jean expressed.

Sebastian looked at his Father, eyes hard. "Fine. I don't. I don't try hard enough. I'll never amount to anything and I should jump off a cliff. Happy?" he spat out, his heart racing. He felt the need to stab himself repeatedly. He was fucking ugly and unwanted.

"You are far too overdramatic," Jean looked away, shaking his head. "I blame that bloody show choir of yours."

Sebastian decided not to say anything. Hell, he could tell Jean he wanted to legitimately shoot himself and the man would tell him he was being 'far too overdramatic'. Whatever. He didn't care.

After dinner, he went to his room. He'd shut the door. He'd already finished with all his studies. He'd spent his time trying to draw the smallest bird he had to do for his art assignment. He'd been given an extension on everything because his Mother just had to get her ass into his education and tell everyone she knew that her son was suffering from a disorder where he had a deformed skeleton being formed on top of his normal one.

Fuck it.

He'd turned to his mirror, staring at himself for a while. Just beside his mirror, he had boxes, boxes which he could open. If he was just a little shorter, he wouldn't be able to. With his height, most tables and surfaces were constructed nearly perfectly whereas if he was standing, he could write without having to really move his arm. It was difficult, especially when it came to moving objects from place to place.

Studying took less time than it took for Sebastian to awkward try to clutch the books and take him to the table. All his books were all still sprawled out. He'd pick them up tomorrow—or he'd let his Mother pick them up tomorrow. Yeah. That.

Whatever. He just didn't care anymore. He took a bottle filled with some shit medication, and threw the contents into the ground.

He'd grabbed a box of paracetamol, and tried to open them. He could not ingest it. He didn't want to. He just wanted to crush it into a fine powder and slip it into his drink or food when nobody was looking and let them feed him with it. That was the plan anyway.

He needed to crush the tablets though. He was going to overdose on paracetamol. He was going to kill himself.

He was able to spend an hour crushing a few of them. They were still coarse, still not a fine powder like he wanted them to be. He was glad he somehow had a pestle and mortar in his room. He forgot why, but then he remembered he used to crush illegal drugs into a fine powder and put it in people's food. Pot brownies anyone?

Crushing the paracetamol took ages, and he had to do it standing up. He could only do it with one hand. He could not move his arm but he could his hand, which enabled him to do it. He wondered when his hands were going to be completely ossified.

Fuck. He wasn't going to live long enough to figure out anyway.

He'd managed to crush three pills. The box held 500mg. That was half of a gram. The maximum dosage of paracetamol he could take, if he could remember correctly (he probably didn't because he was a sore fucking loser) was three grams—

He stopped crushing the pills and turned to his phone and wrote 'maximum dosage of paracetamol.' It was four grams. Fuck him. He was stupid.

He was angry. He should know that, right? He was bloody taking Chemistry. True, they weren't talking about paracetamol or anything but he felt inclined to know. So, that meant he had to crush eight boxes to get the maximum. Nine boxes would do it. Nine boxes would kill him.

He'd finished off at around half a box of paracetamol before he started to feel drowsy and sleepy. He wished he could transfer them to a bag or something. Instead, he just covered the powder with a tissue and added his lighter on top to hold it all up.

Just moving things from one place to another was tiring. He was standing all day long, and had to sit on tables and chairs so that his hand would be in direct contact with whatever it was it had to be in contact with. Fuck it.

He fell asleep soon afterwards, and woke up feeling even more annoyed and dejected.

He went to school. He gave his bird picture thing to Ms Sandy, and she seemed to be happy with it. She asked him if he was sick yesterday and he just responded with a nod. He was technically sick, wasn't he? Sick. Fuck him. Red-headed Mrs Smith from History asked him for homework that he did. Schuester seemed to be worried about how sad he looked like—fuck it, he didn't look sad.

He slept in PE, and then when he came home, he slept even more. Then he woke up and studied until his Mother called him over for dinner. He managed to somehow successfully avoid lunch, because his Mother believed that Jean was feeding Sebastian when in fact, Jean believed that Lena was gonna feed him. Good. He still had issues with that crap.

He did loads more homework and then slept. It didn't matter, right? He was going to off himself anyway, but he didn't know how not to.

The next morning, he went downstairs a little bit late to see Hummel standing there.

"I was asked to drive you to school," Kurt coolly stated. "Your parents thought that it would be nice for you to show that you do display some level of human contact."

Sebastian snorted. "Whatever, Hummel." He moved towards him. "I don't count you as 'human' contact. Maybe fairy contact."

Kurt's eyes were blazing. "Considering you're just about the biggest pretentious jerk I've ever met, one would need supernatural powers just to get some sort of humane response from you."

Sebastian snorted. "You're funny, Hummel," he said, facial expression unchanging.

"If you want me to do something for you – like make toast with a thousand steps, do tell me," Kurt insisted, but then added on. "However, you'd have to eat it as a general rule."

"No, thanks, Hummel. Wouldn't want your hands to contaminate my toaster," Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Haven't touched it since you have, believe it or not. And I haven't touched the peanut butter jar either. I keep on having nightmares about the fact that they're now contaminated with glitter."

Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't find it hard to believe considering that you have the figure of a pubescent child."

Sebastian wouldn't lie. That hurt, simply because he had pictures of himself at a much healthier physique all around the fucking house and he hated looking at them. He used to look so hot. Now, he looked like shit – he had his deformed skeleton showing, his face was gaunt and he looked like he could be blown from place because of a gust of wind.

He hated how shit he looked like. Fuck. He just wanted to throw himself off a building.

"What? No response?" Kurt raised an eyebrow, aggravating the situation for Sebastian.

"At least I don't like a pubescent chick, Hummel," he felt so much better for saying that. In that moment, all Sebastian wanted to do was somehow hurt Kurt the way that Kurt hurt him – exposed him out like that. Fuck. He looked ugly.

Kurt sighed, shaking his head. "Says something about you if you can't get me – the 'pubescent chick' in your bed now, huh?" he put air quotes, and the comment made Sebastian fully flush.

He didn't want the image of him and Hummel fucking. He felt himself grow dread. Fuck. He couldn't have sex with anyone like this. He was too ugly. He better not have sex ever again in his life.

The last time he had sex with anyone, it was with an old guy and they did it in the back of his car. He didn't even really enjoy it. And now, he couldn't do it anymore.

Fuck. He was such a whore. He was going to cry just because he couldn't get fucked? Yeah, maybe. He tried to hold it to himself. He would not cry in front of Hummel ever again.

Happily, Kurt didn't seem to notice Sebastian's facial expression changing drastically. He'd hopped into Hummel's car and let him take him to school. He didn't talk to him for most of it. He just stared outside the window.

He thought of his paracetamol in his room. He thought of how long it would take to finish it off. Huh. Too long. Too fucking long.

He decided to annoy Hummel. "You try too hard, Hummel, you know?" he'd wanted to push Kurt so far. He'd wanted to push everyone so far in that they wouldn't care by the time he'd take those stupid pills. That was the plan anyway. "To pretend that I'm a decent human being and worth your effort or whatever."

"You _are_ a decent human being," Kurt said, his voice cool. "However, you surely are not worth the effort."

Sebastian didn't know what to say to that. He just turned to stare outside. "Buy me a cupcake, Hummel."

"And you'll eat it?" Kurt asked. "Sebastian, you need help for suggesting me to get you a cupcake at six am in the morning. All that sugar so early? How could you stand it?"

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah, I'll eat it."

Kurt looked at him incredulously. "Promise?"

"Yeah," Sebastian gave a sharp nod. "Get me my cupcake. You know, from that bakery that's near that shithole you call school—want a chocolate one."

Kurt nodded his head, keeping his expression sharp. "Fine."

Kurt didn't say anything but he did drive to the bakery. Sebastian didn't know why in fuck's name Kurt couldn't say no to him. It was strange and weird, and he didn't know how to respond to it. Kurt gave back with a cupcake and handed it over to Sebastian.

"Here," Kurt hissed.

Sebastian snorted. "Bring it closer, K. I can't eat it."

"Why can't you pick it up and eat it yourself?" Kurt called out in pure aggravation, and then paused when he remembered. He just pursed his lips afterwards and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," his voice was dripping with something that Sebastian couldn't really read before he realised five seconds later, it was guilt. "No matter how annoyed I am at you, that was hardly appropriate."

Kurt pulled the cupcake closer to Sebastian's mouth.

"We're gonna be late," Sebastian snorted but then cocked his head a bit to take a mouthful of the cupcake. It was good. It was really good. "Water."

Kurt opened up the bottle that was just beside him and brought it to Sebastian's lips. "You eat so slowly," Kurt shook his head.

Sebastian was not normally a slow eater, but with his lack of use of his arms, he just didn't know how else to eat. It was difficult to eat but he still loved the taste of the food. It took him a good ten minutes to eat that cupcake, with every one of them having a swig of water.

"My arms just got a workout," Kurt was joking.

Sebastian was honestly starting to feel dejected again. He did not know what kind of shitty friendship he and Kurt had, but at least it was some sort of relationship. This was as close to friendship as Sebastian had ever been at. He didn't want to pull Kurt away.

A part of him wanted to let Kurt slice him open to see all the things that were in his head, how self-conscious he'd gotten in the past few months, how much he truly hated himself, his plans of killing himself with the paracetamol, his preoccupation with being enough because he didn't feel enough.

He felt like he'd _never_ be enough.

"Are you okay?" Kurt suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow. "Look, I really am sorry about snapping at you for not taking the cupcake from my hand. I genuinely forgot and I just—"

"Shut up, Hummel. I don't care about that," Sebastian insisted, rolling his head. "I'm still asleep. It's seven fucking thirty am in the morning. I don't function until it's past noon or whatever."

Kurt rolled his eyes himself, and then turned to the steering wheel. What Sebastian didn't tell Kurt was that he honestly really fucking respected Hummel for apologising to him for forgetting that he couldn't move his arms.

He didn't mention it to Kurt but people didn't apologise to Sebastian. And Sebastian didn't apologise to people.

This was something new, and Sebastian didn't know what in fuck's name he was supposed to do with it.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


End file.
